She's a girl, that's for sure.
She thinks pants are lame. Lame.
So bedtime ritual includes laying out the next day's outfit because that shit takes forever when you're five and your walk-in closet is better than your mother's.
Pre-K schedule has the lil' dude playing outside on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. So, preparation for those days includes pants. It's the worst ... but not worse than managing a wardrobe malfunction including snow pants, a skirt or dress, and tights.
So yesterday was a fancy outfit-approved day since no snow pants were involved.
She laid out the ruffliest ensemble she owned in anticipation.
And then we got a blizzard, and school was cancelled and when she woke up just shy of noon, she donned her Monday fancy anyways. I told her she didn't need to waste that outfit on a day at home that included eating fistfuls of CheezIts, painting, singing Katy Perry into my round brush, and cuddling with Mama.
Waste? It's not wasting my dress, Mama. Today is just another today and I wearing the outfit I already picked out! I like feeling fancy. It makes me happy and today, I am happy.
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