Turning to the Pink Side

I underestimated the number of outfits we’d need to keep the boys in soft, cottony comfort. Now I’m doing laundry every time they pee on every single outfit in their wardrobe, which work out to two or three loads a week. Fortunately we have a friend who had a preemie baby and was willing to lend us some tiny clothes. Unfortunately, her baby wasn’t exactly like ours.



Those are our boys, and one of them is wearing a borrowed outfit. I don’t want to say which one is dressed in pink; that way I have an effective blackmail tool for either child in the future, should I need it to get the car back at a reasonable hour, or possibly to be placed in the nursing home of my choice.

I left him in that outfit for possibly too long; at one point I mistakenly called him “her.” To make up for it, his next outfit was the manliest, bluest, football-est sleeper I could find.