VEST on, dress/romper/T-shirt and trousers on, neckerchief on and socks on. There doesn't tend to be too much fuss about this getting dressed scenario, other than possibly a few squirms when arms are required to go in arm holes. However, three seconds after it's all done, I'll look back and without fail at least one of the socks will be missing.
In the early days when the pretty socks kept coming off I blamed the foot accessories for being too big. They weren't but I was a wet-behind-the-ears naive new parent. Then as the weeks past I thought that the fact that socks never stayed on A-bomb's feet must be to do with her having slippery skin. Nonsense I know, but as a brand new Dad you struggle to blame your baby for anything, even offensive nappy bombs and urinating over your new carpet
Now though, I know that the little deviant yanks the socks off as part of her plan to chip away at my mental wellness. Today was swimming day, which involves quick changes so that nobody (me or A-bizzle) gets cold post-pool. That all went well and I was feeling pretty smug, then I looked down at her feet. Nowhere to be seen. Another pair of socks lost into the ether.
"So what?" Might say anyone who is not a parent.
"You lost some socks, big deal."
But there are a few things in play here:
1) If I've put socks on it's because it is cold, so the baby needs them.
2) Socks aren't free, so it's annoying to lose them.
3) The kicking and pulling off of socks is a blatant two fingers up to me, the parent. If this sort of insolence isn't crushed with an iron fist who knows where it will lead. Probably with me on the streets and her in prison.
If I'd have walked out off the swimming changing rooms with no socks on The Lady, I might've been labelled "the dad who wants his daughter's feet to freeze off" or worse, "the dad who forgot his daughter's socks", so I saved face by putting a spare pair on. I always carry a spare pair in the event that the minx tries to show me up.
With the new socks on I fed the girl, put her in the car-seat and went home. The whole way back I could hear A-bomb's mind plotting her next sock move. Needless to say when I unclipped her, one sock was missing. I found it, in the gutter of the car-seat. Kids these days have no respect.
I'm off to buy some elastic bands and super-glue. It's a slippery slope.
If A-bomb doesn't literally and metaphorically pull her socks up I'll have to consider electric shock therapy, for both of us.
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