Emery is not a fan of wearing clothes. I can’t tell you how many times I have to tell him to “put your clothes back on, Son.” Somehow, someway, he looses misc articles all throughout the day. A shirt here, underpants there, etc.
I explain things to him like being modest in a house with a sister and how it isn’t appropriate to go around naked! He pouts and fusses and insists that clothes are not comfortable.
Then, last night, he fell asleep on the way home from my parents house. He had been swimming and playing hard all afternoon and the boy was slap, worn out. So I carried him up to bed.
Given the circumstances, I figured I could put his jammies on without any trouble. I quickly and ever so gently got his shorts off and pajama bottoms on. I thought about leaving his tank top on, but decided to slip it over his head at the last minute.
He was still sleeping until I moved him over to the pilow. Then he opened his eyes and said, “what about my shirt?”
“You don’t have to wear one,” I said. “Besides, it’s kinda hot in your room. Just wear your bottoms.”
“Nooooo. I haaaaaave to wear a shirt!”
“Why? You don’t ever want to wear a shirt.”
“Because. Someone might see my boobies.”
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Now, a scene from breakfast one morning:
Savannah: “Mooooooom, Emery just hit me for NO reason!!!!!!!!”
Emery: “No. I didn’t hit her for no reason. I hit her because I wanted to.”
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And a scene from dinner tonight:
Me: “Hey Emery, are you done eating?”
Emery: “Yeah. But not yet.”
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