Pajama Pants

For a couple of weeks now, I have failed to mention my fight with a four year old over pajama-bottoms. No one has ever accused me of being the most mature grown-up in the crowd, but I proved over the Labor Day weekend that I can be as childish as, well, as a real child.

I don't guess it matters how we got into the situation, but Jake needed some clean pajama pants, and I was the one dispatched to get them.

Annika went up to his room with me, purportedly to help me find the pajamas, but in her own mind, her mission was more sinister. She had a very deep, primal, inner need to keep her brother from putting on clean pajamas.

First, she tried to distract me. She wanted to show me something in her room. I wouldn't bite.

Then, she tried to show me that the pajamas were in Jake's closet. I suppose she thought I would see just normal clothes, and then give up on finding pajamas. I went to the closet, but caught on quickly that I was being duped. I mean really, who keeps pajamas in the closet?

At this point, I wised up to the fact that I was dealing with an opponent rather than with an assistant. Annika sensed that I was now in combat mode, and went up another notch.

Simultaneously, I found pajama pants in a drawer, and the battle was on.

"YOU CAN'T BRING THOSE DOWN"

Why not?

"HE CAN'T WEAR THOSE NOW"

Out of my way, little girl. I have pajama pants to carry down the stairs.

"BUT IT'S A WASTE OF LAUNDRY."

Huh? (That one stopped me for a second, as I tried to comprehend.)

"IT'S A WASTE OF LAUNDRY!!!"

I still didn't (and don't to this day) really understand that argument, but this was the point where I bent over and stuck an index finger right in the poor little girl's face. "Do you do the laundry around here?" I went on, without waiting for the response. I was talking fast and loud by now.

"I know you don't, and I think that whoever does do the laundry wouldn't mind Jake wearing clean pajama pants."

With that, I took them down and put them on the kid.

And then, I sat there and gloated. I think I stopped short of actually making eye contact and then sticking out my tongue at Annika, but I sure did want to. She continued to whine about her brother's pants for a while, which made my inward gloating all the worse. (I know... I fear that I might be evil.)

If you're too worried, don't be. As soon as Annika was inclined to be noisy and disruptive again, we made friends in a hurry.