I have made a habit of picking out Clinton's clothes myself. For a brief period I let Clinton pick out his own clothes and things got really bad, really fast. Blue Mater socks with plaid shorts and a striped shirt? Yikes.
So, anyway...the other day I selected a new plaid shirt with some chocolate brown shorts and was quite happy with my selections. Clinton, on the other hand, was not quite yet satisfied...
"I want my belt. My belt like Hop's!" Okay...so we tuck in the shirt, and put on his belt like Hop's. The belt with a bull rider belt buckle. We were all set.
"Mom!! My boots! My boots! My boots like Hop's!" We open the closet, find the boots, and get them on his huge feet. Okay...we're all set, right?
"Where's my hat?? My hate like Hop's? Mom....MY HAT?" We find it and get it adjusted, and at last my little man is happy....because he is...at last....just...like...Hop.
Cowboy crazy,
1 comment:
He looks so grown up in these pictures!
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