I Wouldn’t Be Caught Dead in that Rag!
Wife: That doesn’t look good together.
Me: I know but I couldn’t find anything else.
Wife: What about a dress?
Me: She refused to wear a dress.
Wife: She’s two, Ed. She’ll wear a dress.
I left the room at this point in search of other acceptable clothing for her highness, Miss Zella. I had already been to the attic once this morning. Maura made her way into the room to offer up the green dress, the same green dress she had refused me just moments ago.
**cue the screaming—lots of screaming—a whole lot of screaming—screaming similar to I just ripped your arm off and hit you with the bloody end screaming**
I can’t be sure, but I think I heard the words, “NO!” and “I don’t like that!”
Several times.
The whole exchange took but a few seconds. My wife exited the room with the green dress in hand, half smiling, fully shaking her head in disbelief at Zella’s exertion of her newly realized fashion independence. She looked at me, waiting, knowing it was coming.
Me: You were saying…..
