This morning, Monkey Boy awoke happy and giggly...ate all of his breakfast, with little-to-no nagging and then...proceeded to have a meltdown over the shorts and t-shirt combo that I had picked out for him. Whah?
"I don't wanna wear that Rays shirt, mama. I want to wear the black one."
"You don't have a black Rays shirt, baby. The blue one is in the laundry, let's just wear this one."
"Noooooooooo!!!! I don't like that! I waaaannnnnnnaaaa wear another shiiiiiirrrttt"
"I don't like those new socks, they are wrinkly!!!" (Really? your socks are wrinkly??)
and so on and so on. If you have kids, you get the picture. If you don't have kids, well, be thankful you've not yet tangled with 3 year-olds that believe themselves to be the world's authority on everything. It's quite exhausting.
Monkey Boy tears down the hallway, in nothing but Batman underoos, hollering at the top of his lungs, extolling the heartache that has been caused by the threat of wearing a shirt that apparently finds offensive and begins to tear open his shirt drawer, selecting every shirt except one that will actually go with the shorts I picked out. Gah.
Finally, "he decides" that they baseball shirt is the right choice. By "he decides" I mean that I shove all the other shirts into the back of the drawer so he can't reach them, and wrangle the baseball shirt into his hand, maintaining that he picked it out all by himself. So what? I'm sneaky. Show me one mommy who isn't!
Yes, I realize that by indulging him in this outburst, I am setting myself up for future tantrums and wardrobe changes, but if he ends up being the only kid in this family, I have to play dress-up with someone!
Oh, have I been there too! I take comfort in hearing I am not alone!
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