Before raising a child, little baby clothes are so adorable. Shrunken men’s clothes in tiny sizes for a little boy makes you want to pinch some baby cheeks and squint your eyes with a creepy smile on. Because you don’t have to wrangle your child into it or pull his flailing legs out of it or scrub poop off it or watch drool and baby food fall onto the neck of it.
But then once you’re a parent, the baby clothes become functional rather than whimsical. You think about what’s easiest to get on and off, what hides stains. You begin to dress your son the way a self-conscious adult does, rather than the way a supermodel dresses. You don’t just throw something on on a whim. There are no whims. Everything is thought out, planned, and practical. Flirty clothes? What are those. Now you’re dressing to hide rolls, not to flaunt cleavage. Oh, I’m talking about myself again, aren’t I? Babies…this was about babies.
What I’m saying is thank God for baby clothes from people who aren’t parents. That’s the only way my son doesn’t look like a slob. My sister bought him this adorable half-zip Ralph Lauren sweater. I love it so much, I thought about leaving it in his closet with the tags on – away from the spit up and drool and poop that is a baby. I wanted to keep it pristine and perfect, because nothing is after it’s worn once. But I put him in it. And yes, by the end of the day, when this picture was taken, there was slobber on his sleeve. There was snot on his collar. But he still looks damn good in it, and it on him.