How I Love That Kid!
This morning, I sent D (7 years old) upstairs to get dressed for school. A few minutes later, he strolled into the kitchen still wearing his pajamas.
I started to
bark at him gently remind him to get his clothes on when I noticed his baby sister trailing along behind him, sloppily dressed, her hair disheveled from sleep and partially covering her face, and a big toothy grin plastered on her face.
See, I didn’t know R (almost-2-years-old) was awake. I had not gotten her out of her bed or dressed her. D had done all that.
I immediately began to laugh, because R was wearing a skirt and matching top, but the top has one of those onesie bottoms that snaps at her cr0tch area, and my son had left it hanging out over the skirt. The skirt was askew, with the side stripes in the front and back. And her tousled blond hair was hanging in her face so that she could hardly see.
I said to him, “Did you dress her?” thinking that perhaps Husband had put this outfit on her to sleep in last night (he does that sort of thing when he can’t find clean pajamas) but D confirmed that this was, in fact, all his doing. And he was so proud of himself, I didn’t have the heart to scold him for not getting himself dressed as I’d asked.
“It was the only thing that I was sure matched,” he sheepishly explained. “And I saw this top and I knew it went with this skirt, but I didn’t know what to do with the snap things.”
I gave him a great big hug before I asked him jokingly if he wouldn’t mind changing her diaper too. That, however, is where he draws the line. (As do I. Some things are above and beyond the call of big brotherly duty.) We shared a chuckle, and it was really a fun moment before sending him off to spend the day at school.
Here is the fruit of his labors. The rear view was even funnier, but I couldn’t get a shot because R kept turning around to pose for the camera. Goofy kid!
Ironic, isn’t it, that the Phillies outfit is the “only thing” my son, the die-hard Phillies fan, “was sure that matched”. Uh-huh. Likely story. (Note also the purse. It belongs to C, but R loves to carry it around whenever C isn’t there to grab it from her.)