October 19, 2012 by Marj Hatzell
Bugaboo likes to be clothes-less.
In our house, pants are always optional. You know, for him? I mean, I wear pants. Most of the time. Which is the story I’m sticking with. And when we have family gatherings and he suddenly bolts through the room, sans anything on the bottom, my bro-in-law points out “It’s a pants-optional party!” Except that’s kind of a misnomer, since Bugaboo typically opts NOT to have pants on.
Lately, however, he is obsessed with his pajama pants. Now, I’ve mentioned this before but if he isn’t streaking through the house pressing his nekkid buns on the front window or doing nekkid-full-monty handstands in the gigantic bay window, he’s changing his bottoms repeatedly. We still have him wear a pull-up at night because sometimes he’s in such a deep sleep he doesn’t wake up to pee and he is a super-pee-er, which means he is drenched from head to toe. Which also means he’s cold, cranky and wide awake when that happens. So we put a pull-up on him.
But he now thinks that EVERY TIME he wears pajama bottoms he MUST have a pull-up on as well. Even if it is 3pm. Even at 10 in the morning. Every. Single. Time. And he’s been toilet-trained for about two years so he doesn’t actually need to wear them. And he doesn’t wet or soil them. In fact, every time he goes to the toilet he wants to take it off and put a brand-spanking-new one on.
The other day we had errands to run and he wanted to wear the pjs. But it was Saturday and normally I’m relaxed about it. I mean, if he wants pajama pants, who cares, right? Right. Except that he’s sorta-kinda addicted to one particular pair of pajama pants (he’s wearing them HERE).They’ve almost become a security blanket for him, odd since he never really went through that phase. But he MUST HAVE THESE PANTS at all times. We even have two pairs of THE SAME PANTS. But somehow he knows THIS pair is softer, more worn, dingier, smellier. I have to wrestle the pants away from him to wash them. On weekends they have remnants of cheese doodles or pizza on them and they smell like, well, they smell like BOY. So wash them, I must. Talk like Yoda, I must.
Now, if I manage to get them away from him, toss them in the wash and dry them? He will refuse to wear any other pants until they come back out. He’ll also sneak down to the laundry room and if I’ve left the door open he stops the washer or dryer and puts them on, dampness, soaked in suds, you name it. And then has the audacity to complain about it.
One day he was getting ready for school and was mighty ticked off I wouldn’t let him wear the pants. So he slung the pants around his neck and off to school he went. Pick your battles, right? And that afternoon when he stepped off the bus? You guessed it. He had the pants on.
But lest you think this is purely a Bugaboo phenomenon? The flannel pants that we purchased this summer for after diving meets are now Bug Boy’s favorite pants. Fortunately I found an EXACT PAIR at Goodwill, just as washed and worn and the same size. Which means he can change his pants twice a week now! (I KEEEED. Maybe.)