We had a few snow days this week. Conveniently timed for right after Chris and I had both taken two weeks off of work.
One of those mornings I decided to let loose a little and let Lilly choose her own outfit. Which she loves doing, but often turns out ridiculous. And not in that cute way they show on TV shows. More in the Peopleofwalmart.com kind of way.
But hey, I figure, it's a snow day. Who cares?
She dashes off and excitedly carts back a dress and tights. Not bad! They do not match in any sense of the word, but at least they are actual clothes that can be worn together to cover her whole body, right?
So I say, "Great job, Lilly! Now go get some underpants and we'll get dressed!"
(You have to talk in exclamation points with children.)
But instead of trotting off to grab underpants, she turns to me, exasperated and somewhat disgusted and says, "But MOM. Princesses don't WEAR underpants!"
"Yes, they do."
"No they don't!"
"Lilly, go get underpants."
"MOM. PRINCESSES DON'T WEAR UNDERPANTS."
The truth of the matter is I have no actual first-hand knowledge about whether or not princesses, in fact, wear underpants. It's just an assumption on my part. But you can't show weakness when arguing with a three year old.
There is some back and forth until Lilly stomps her foot and says, "MOM. Underpants don't even MAKE ANY SENSE."
"Yes, they do, Lilly."
"Then what do they even DO?"
Look. At some point, you just stop talking, and explaining life, and just say, wear some godforsaken underpants because that's what we do.