There’s No Crying in Jammies!

So I’m getting C ready for bed tonight and I tell him to pick out his pajamas while I get out of my suit. When I come back, he has picked the new pj’s just sent from Auntie M. He loves them, but they are light-weight and we’re going through a cold snap right now (not to mention that our house is almost 250 years old and just a wee bit drafty), so I wanted him in the warm footie jammies. And of course, when I say as much, he starts crying because this is the biggest crisis to hit his life since, well, the last one.

I choose to ignore the crying and press on: “Oh, hush, C. Get in your diaper.”

C: “It’s a pull-up daddy.” (He’s potty trained but the pull-up is our insurance policy at night).

Me: “Well, when you’re crying like a baby, you wear a diaper like a baby.”

He stops for a second, turns to me, and says very seriously and without a tear, “Daddy, sometimes people just get sad and right now I’m sad.”

Are three-year olds normally so in touch with their feelings? Are we raising Dr. Phil here?

Ah well, I let him wear Auntie M’s jammies, he now looks like a 3-foot-tall candy cane, and life goes on…

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