Two mini mirrors

I was digging through the kids’ belts in Zara the other day for Beau. I found a good one and took it to the counter.

Last weekend Mr Big Beau asked if I could buy him a belt to keep his jeans up, not that he needs it, as his little jeans fit snug

ly on his tummy. I knew he wanted one so he could be the same as me. He felt my belt on my jeans and lifted my shirt to inspect it closer.

Later that weekend I was in the shower and in popped Beau asking if I could spike his hair “because someone at school said I look handsome like that” and if he could put some perfume on.

“Of course you can, my little man,” I said to him as I stood there in a towel, combing his beautiful blond hair up into a peak.

“You look handsome any which way you wear your hair.” He smiled when he saw it in the mirror.

He turned his wrists over ready for a spray. I laughed and squirted Clinique Happy on his wrists and then rubbed a bit on his neck.

Chick walked in and silently presented his wrists and mimicked his brother, although his hair was to remain flat.

I stood in the bathroom and started toying with my own hair.

It was adorable to have the boys wanting grooming assistance already. They follow my every move, they watch for every piece of clothing to follow and they mimic what I eat and drink.

I mean, we look the same, you can tell I’m their dad, but it’s hilarious seeing three people nearly dressed the same doing the same things.

I wished sometimes I had a girl so I could dress her up in cute clothes, but I find myself doing it with the mini men who aren’t so mini any more. I look at the checked shirts, jeans with belts, nice shoes and smell whiffs of citrus perfumes and can’t discern where I stop and they begin.

They have plenty of time to create their own look, gruffy or polished teenagers. At least hopefully one thing will last — their penchant to smell like two little oranges.