On Saturday, I left Cruz with Tovi and my in-laws watching El Clasico while I spent two blissful hours shopping alone. I finished a sizeable chunk of my list, and in general felt happy that we're simplifying Christmas this year.
We're going simpler this year, but one of my Christmas indulgences has been to find Cruz some great Christmas jammies.
I wanted some classic, striped red and white jams (obviously), but apparently you have to buy those in October. I've been haunting the Hanna Andersen website, giving myself a mental slap in the forehead for not ordering The Perfect Pajamas when our catalog came in September.
First World Problems are so tough, right?
So I have been everywhere looking for The Perfect Pajamas to very little avail.
I have been that lady at Costco, tossing aside each pair on the table to find the right size. No luck.
On Saturday, I ended up at Macy's with a cute pair that will satisfy me and just you wait until next year, Hanna...
I also found this at Macy's:
I can't get over it, I just can't. This is a bib for babies.
And I have a sense of humor. Like, I get it. I joke about my baby being a heartbreaker in high school, but I like to think it's because he'll be so nice and charming and smart and a great dancer (you should see him back it up!) that all the girls will want to date him and unless he's into sisterwives, only one girl at a time. Ergo, hearts broken.
But this bib!
This seems like a step beyond calling your baby a heartbreaker or Mommy's Allstar or Daddy's Tough Guy.
Essentially, this says, "Your daughter won't be safe around my son. I'm raising him to be a predator."
After my shopping trip, I went back to my in-law's house and put Cruz in the bathtub.
I couldn't shake my disgust over that bib, and it seemed so out of place with anything baby, especially as I watched my darling, chubby, innocent son splash around in the tub.
He takes delight in such little everyday things.
He carries around a toothbrush, squeals with delight when he sees "Aaaaabba," sits up while nursing to give me kisses, loves to read...
How dare I take such a pure soul and defile it with such a crass sentiment?
Can I get this on a bib instead?