I've figured it out. After years of you screaming & crying & fighting & stomping your feet, I figured it out. Sometime between the time when I tuck in my sweet little girl at night, covering your angelic face with kisses, & when it's time to get dressed the next morning, something happens. Somehow you turn into...gasp...a purple minion. It's bad, really bad.
The other day I woke you up with snuggles & soothing words. You smiled & told me you loved me. Then you looked at the clothes I had laid out for you for the day. "Aughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," you cried. It was mass chaos.
"What?! What's wrong?!" I frantically asked. I looked at the clothes quizzically. The shirt was pink, your favorite color. The sleeves were puffy, & a pink flower was printed on the front of the shirt. You love all of those things. What could be the problem? Then I figured it out. I had chosen jeans for your bottoms, but you've decided you hate jeans.
"But Fancy Nancy wears jeans. Remember? Jeans can be fancy too." Like an idiot, I tried to use logic & reason with a four year old before dawn. You looked at me with fierce defiance. "Fancy Nancy is NOT a princess. I'm a princess, & princesses don't wear jeans!"
So, it was going to be another morning of wrestling you into your clothes.
Sigh, I love you so but the purple minion is really tough to take.
I love you so,