I have just finished a laundry marathon, which means my kids won’t be wandering around in their pajamas anymore (except by choice).
It has done little to help my Cheetos-toes and my ankle bones are missing, but my heart is lighter and I feel like I’ve accomplished something worthwhile today. (Don’t tell, but I also got a load of dishes done.)
This laundry marathon had me washing the cutest baby boy items we received from last week’s baby shower.
I admit, I was afraid of baby boy clothes. They don’t have ruffles, bows, or anything pink, which in our household of girly-girls, has seemed like sacrilege. I get distinct joy in seeing a well-placed piece of glitter; boy clothes are filled with things that confuse me and make me nervous I’m about to be harmed – balls, baseball bats, dinosaurs, monster trucks and such.
BUT… these gals, they did it right in laying my fears of boy clothes to rest. There are monkeys (who can’t love an animal that throws its own feces?), elephants, and stripes. These items are soft. Small. They make me want to coo over the rambunctious infant about to enter our lives.
In no more than three weeks. Ay-yi-yi. I need the equivalent of a stiff drink. Or strong drugs. What was I saying?
In the midst of this baby shower bonanza, I came across a set of socks. It’s part of a larger group, I think there are six pairs total, but this particular pair, navy blue and gold, is sporting the phrase, “I love naps.”
I love naps?!
Why would anyone put such a patently untrue statement on anything, much less a pair of socks?!
I have never known (or been related to) an infant that genuinely thought, “Hm… nap! I love it!”
Oh, they might doze off at the slightest drop of milk or mid-cry, but come 2 am the sadistic streak comes out and all that “I love napping” tomfoolery goes straight out the window at a ferocious speed.
That sock is a deliberate taunt at parents, making them believe their little angel is going to actually be kind to them, that the stories of sleep zombie-parents are over-stated attempts to garner sympathy from other adults.
That won’t happen. Ever.
That sock is just wrong. (Not really evil, but wrong. Mean.)
Now, if someone wants to knit me up a pair of socks in size 8.5 that says “I love naps,” I’ll wear them every day with pride.
What is the silliest thing you’ve seen on a piece of child’s clothing?