The House Always Wins

I bought a two pack of pajamas on sale for cheap for my son, though why I needed to add they were cheap is beyond me. It is me writing after all. I’ve never paid more than $30 for a pair of jeans and never over $4 for a pair of children’s jeans. I refuse. Some might call that thrifty or even smart, but sadly it gets much worse. I recently went out for my sister’s Bachelorette party. We were out until 2am, she bought me two drinks; I bought her zero. Boo! (Sorry, Sis.) Alright, you get it, I’m cheap. Moving on. The Kraken wore one pair of jams a couple nights ago. For some reason, daddy wanted him to wear the other pair tonight. I kinda did too. There is nothing cuter than my kids in their pjs.

Let the epic battle commence.

Problem Number 1: The Kraken prefers to wear shorts to bed. The second set, covered in a piranha motif, unfortunately is a pair of pants. “NO NO NO. No wear pants daddy. Wear yorts.” Let the screaming begin.

Problem Number 2: The Kraken is a creature of habit: each morning we “release the Kraken”, breakfast is always eggs occasionally with pancakes, before getting dressed he checks the temperature by running out the front door, once Rosie is tucked in bed for nap time we do worksheets in his tracing book, and on and on our day goes. My little man loves routine, which hopefully doesn’t suggest anything more than feeling comfortable with a large strange world. So, when my husband suggested wearing the fish encrusted shirt with the gray shorts from the other ensemble, The Kraken was not pleased. “But daddy, that no match! Gray yorts match other yirt not this yirt. AHHHHHHHH.”

Problem Number 3: Both of the men in my life are stubborn as heck. Daddy dresses our son in piranha shirt with gray “nonmatching” shorts. The Kraken continues to scream.

Problem Number 4: Momma believes a three year old needs things in his life that he can control. This makes him a bit more helpful during the rest of his day when he does not and often cannot have much voice. And as such has been allowing her little man to wear whatever he wishes to bed. Sometimes he sleeps in his orange underwear, sometimes the outfit he’s worn all day or most often, shorts and a tee shirt. It’s sorta a house rule. The rest of the day he generally gets a choice between activities or items, but bedtime is his time to rule the world.

Problem Number 5: It’s been very rough for my husband with work hours this past month. Pretty sure he was only able to participate in our bedtime routine two or three times out of the last thirty. Therefore, poor daddy doesn’t know the house rules. And so the Titans clash.

I settled The Kraken down long enough for him to choke out the words, “But this no work. Wear other yirt. I pick other yirt. Please, daddy please. Change now please, please, daddy?” Not even daddy can say no to that little face. And so The Kraken sleeps soundly in his jams not covered in little fish.

Perhaps I should brief the General on all the new rules I pass while he is away. Maybe I should turn all his pajama pants into cut offs. I think the best course of action though is to sit back and take notes for when my lovely Siren becomes a pre-teen. Can’t wait for that.