In moments of feeling a bit stalled-out on our sloooow progress, *A* and I find ourselves drifting into the room we’ve been working on to be our little one’s room. It’s a work-in-progress still (more on nest-building to come), but several parts have come together over the summer, enough to make it look a little more “together” than the rather mis-matched rest of the house. In the middle of the room, waiting on a chest-of-drawers’ paint to fully “cure” (or whatever it needs to do for the drawers to not stick), are some little one clothes that we have acquired over the past couple of years, some of which are outgrown items from other little ones.
One night this past week, I went into the room and saw this little pajama outfit at the top of the box:
Cute, right? You can just see a little one wearing this snug little fleecy thing on Christmas morning, yeah? Well, wait until you get a load of the back:
It’s one of those old-timey (but not, since this came from the GAP) union suits with the trap door in the back! Funny! When these pajamas were passed down to us, even *A*, who does not gush over many things (and did not over this), admitted that it would be great for Christmas morning pictures. Great! Thanks to the little one who outgrew this! Fun little wooden buttons and soft, cozy fleece! Yay! (Or so we thought).
Upon closer inspection, when I came across the pajamas last week, I realized: BUTTONS. There are FIVE of them across the backside and FIVE of them on the front side of this little fleecy deal, sized for an enormous 3-month-old. If you’re counting, that’s TEN BUTTONS total. Thick fabric. Big knobby buttons.
Though I have no personal experience here just yet, I seem to recall that 3-month-old persons frequently use the nighttime hours to make emphatic statements as to their preferences and requirements. Often the offending matter is related to their nether-regions, and some attention to detail is required here of the already sleep-deprived grown person. This little union suit strikes me as perhaps not the best choice of garment for such purposes. But some clothing design person at the GAP thought it would be just fine, even for someone who could not do more with a button than drool on it. Maybe you wouldn’t have to do a full-body extraction just to change a diaper. Maybe just employ the trap door in the back. That would lessen the button-count to just five, not the full ten. Fifty percent less work – this seems do-able, yes? Well, ever the academic, I decided to put it to a test.
I brought the little uniform into our bedroom, where *A* was reading her nightly
paragraph before the book hits her in the head , signaling that it is Time For Sleep bedtime reading. I (the night owl of the two of us) struck up an energetic conversation:
Me: “Hey, look at this!”
*A* (sleepily): “Yes. Seen it before. Many times. Fuzzy. Christmas morning.”
Me: “But wait! Did you try unbuttoning a button on this?”
*A* (after maybe 7-8 seconds of struggle): “Okay. There you go.”
Me: “Uh-huh. Now, unbutton the entire back side while I time you with a stopwatch.”
Me: (with that annoying I must have the answer look): “Yes. We need to know.”
*A*(after about 40 seconds, averaging 8 seconds per button): “Oh, for goodness’ sakes”(with a flaring of nostrils).
Me: “This is what I’m saying!” And this is without a kid in it! Can you imagine…(lightbulb moment) Oh, wait. This needs to be as authentic as we can make it.
*A*: Please don’t try to put the cat in these pajamas.
Me: “No, she’s still reeling from the little dress I tried on her. Bad idea. No, I was thinking….let’s do the same time trial, but with the lights out.”
Me: “You think you’ll have the room lit up like Las Vegas in the middle of the night when The Littlest Brooks-Livingston loudly demands a change of drawers?
*A*: “Well, no…”
Me: “Alright then! Let’s try it again!” (as soon as I turn out the lights, I do an impromptu version (for authenticity’s sake) of the goats screaming like humans video that’s so popular right now on Youtube- the second and third goats are fantastic). *A* starts snorting with laughter. I can’t see her progress, but I think the buttoning is not happening with all possible speed.
A full three minutes later, after alarming both the cats and the dog with goats-in-distress noises that sound oddly like humans-in-distress, all five buttons on the trap door are un-done, but it doesn’t matter so much because the whole thing has been hurled to the other side of the room with an epithet about “buttons like these are why zippers were invented…”
So, perhaps we’ll have a small category of “for picture-taking purposes only” clothes. And (possibly OR), I should plan these scientific investigations for earlier in the day.