My Husband Dressed The BabyAmy Keyishian
For real, yo.
I put her in the stripey thing, and then turned my back for maybe 10 minutes while I got myself ready to leave the house, and when I returned, she was in… this. “Holy crap, what’s that outfit?” I asked. “Warm,” he said.
Look, I do not want to be the Everybody Loves Raymond mom. I have total faith well, a lot of faith in my husband’s parenting abilities, not the least because he had a couple-few kids before he even met me. And he’s usually pretty smart about making sure things either match or “go” (you know what I’m talking about, right? Two different things). But this!
Let’s deconstruct. We have the blue on blue stripey outfit, which is both warm and darling. To this, we added legwarmers. Pirate legwarmers. Possibly that could work, in a Riot Grrl kinda stripey/blacky way, but then you throw on the pretty flowered bib and top it with a crazy too-big fruit-stripe hat, and you’ve pretty much got a pint-sized crazy cat lady, minus the cats.
And I mean, on the one hand, it doesn’t matter, because she’s a baby and she’s warm and who cares. And on the other… NO! IT MATTERS! And I don’t KNOW why! But it DOES!
I like my darlings to look darling. Which doesn’t mean girly it means cute! My favorite Abby outfit right now involves a red shirt, red-and-pink pants in a sock-monkey print, and the same mismatched booties. (They are mismatched because I neatly lost one of each, but they each match the outfit, and they are really the only quirky touch. One quirky touch per outfit. We can all agree that’s the maximum allowed, right?) I don’t require brand names, or dresses, or tutus. I do require comfort, natural fabrics, and NOT MAKING ME WANT TO CLAW MY EYES OUT.
Well, so there you go, I get the Patricia Heaton award of the day. I love my husband! I love my baby! But I do not love this outfit.