I’ve been going home a lot on the weekends because of my dad. This weekend was extra bonus special because my niece(6) and nephew(10) were up visiting from Florida. I love those two little people more than a basket of baby unicorns. 

Delaney, the niece, and I were up late on Saturday bedazzling a sock (we were practicing before moving onto a t-shirt). She turned to me in her princess footsie pajamas and said, “I like thin people best.”

Now, Delaney and I have talked about this kind of thing before. When she was 5 she started calling her belly a frog belly. She does have the cutest little belly that juts out like a frog. So when I was visiting she asked me why I had a big belly. I said everyone has a different kind of belly, and since I really liked cookies I would call mine a cookie belly. She solemnly accepted that explanation, patted my belly and said, “Hello cookie belly!” Later, her little friends came over. One of them looked at me and said, “Why are you so fat?” Delaney got mad and said, “She’s NOT fat! She has a cookie belly!” and that seemed to satisfy everyone in the room. They nodded in agreement and went back to playing.

So on Saturday, I figured that Delaney might be testing the waters. When she said she liked thin people best, I said, “But Delaney, I’m not thin. Don’t you like me?” “Of course I like you!” she said. And I said, “Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Kevin—we’re all not skinny!” 

And she looked at me and pointed at me and tried to find the words, “No, I DO like people who are… .”

“Fat?” I said. “You can say fat, pumpkin! It’s not a bad word, it’s just a description. It’s ok.”

“Really?”

“Yup, it’s only a bad word if you mean it to be a bad word, or if you use it to describe something bad.”

“Oh, so if you say ‘Fat people are ugly, that’s bad!”

And I told her she had it exactly right.

“But you’re really really cute, Aunt Rache. I mean it. You are CUTE.”

And I thanked her and said that anyone can be cute, big or small or regular (Delaney’s word choice—we’re either skinny, fat or regular in 6-year old parlance). And then I gave her a crazy big hug and told her I loved her to pieces. 

I don’t get to see my niece enough. I could have just diverted her back to bedazzling. It would have been faster and easier. But I’m glad she said what she said, and I’m glad she said it to me. At six she’s learning how to navigate the world, and I’m happy she’s making difficult statements and asking hard questions. She’s good stuff, my niece. Good good stuff.