Dress for dinner


At approximately 6pm, every evening, if you happened to be in the vicinity of our home, you may be privy to the following battle conversation:

Me: Thomas! Can you pleased wash your hands and get dressed for dinner*

*we are not a family from the Victorian era that requires its members to put on their finest clothes before coming to the table. We simply ask that you wear clothes. Or at best, underpants.

Thomas: (insert whiny voice here) Why do I have to put my clothes on? Can I just eat like this (pointing to a 100% naked body)?

Me: no. You HAVE to wear clothes to eat dinner. I feel like this is a conversation that we can’t keep having. You just have to, ok?

Thomas: but whyyyyyyyyyyyy?

Me: clothes. Stat.

Stomping away and then returning with a telltale giggle heard all the way down the hall…..

Thomas: I did it mum. I put underpants on.



2 thoughts on “Dress for dinner

  1. Ahhh life is different now that the kiddo is eleven. I kinda miss the naked years 🙂

    • As much as I make out that the nakedness drives me crazy, I actually love that he prefers to run around naked. I love seeing the little chubby legs running about! I will miss it when he decides to remain clothed. Sigh.

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