Yesterday we went to the mall. The weather was warm, but it was extremely windy, and we tried to dress accordingly.
This means that your mother and I spent about 25 minutes trying to persuade you that the short sleeve shirt you had picked out for yourself would be too cold. Much of this discussion was me trying to interest you in a sweatshirt that might keep you warm and would let you continue to wear the shirt you decided was an absolute necessity.
The entire time you maintained that it was not windy outside and that your would be warm enough in a tank top and sweatpants.
The end result is that you change clothes
completely and wore a cute ensemble with a zippered sweat shirt, matching sweatpants and a slightly longer sleeve shirt.
But still you insisted that it was not windy outside and that you would be warm enough.
Once you were
finally properly dressed, your mother and I felt comfortable moving further in the routine we all use to leave the house. That goes in this kind of order:
- Use potty
- Get dressed
- Brush teeth (if required, obviously)
- Do hairdo
- Put shoes on
- Find bunny/purse/50 small objects to go in purse/miscellaneous food substances you might need
- Get in car
- Get you buckled in your seat
- Go back in the house for anything I forgot/you forgot
- Perhaps leave, if we are not too tired
I should point out that this list assumes your mother or I have absolutely nothing to do in the meantime, like get dressed ourselves, put our shoes on, feed the dog, fight off hordes of foreign invaders/solicitors, etc.
Though, honestly, foreign invaders and solicitors have really dropped off recently. I think the word might be out that Buddy is large and loud and generally hungry because we switched him to a “maintenance” dog food.
Anyway, as you can tell by the list the next steps after you get dressed are “Brush teeth” and “Do hairdo”. Even though we had just argued about every little part of the outfit you wanted to wear and whether it was cold and windy outside, you were more than willing to brush your teeth, and we sauntered into the bathroom and spent a very short amount of time with you sucking on your toothbrush and practicing slow motion spitting.
Having checked that off the list I asked you if you wanted a hairdo.
And, at this point, you looked at me with an expression of utmost exasperation and said “No Daddy! It is windy outside!” and tromped off downstairs to get your shoes on.
And I looked at your mother and asked “Is that genetic?”
