While at the amazing Sprayground in Centerville, P kept lifting her shirt. And yes, at three, while she’s not exactly flashing everyone, we’re still in public and standards must be maintained.
Me: Put your shirt down
Me: (five minutes later) Put your shirt down P, right now (geez)
Me: (three minutes later) Ok, we’re gonna leave if you don’t listen and put your shirt down (you little hoochie)
P: Why do the boys have no shirts?
Me: That’s just the way it is. Girls wear tops when they swim and boys don’t. (I know, might as well have gone old-school and offered “Because I said so”)
You know the kids who were refused any sweets growing up, so they become compulsive eaters as adults? What if my refusal to let her go topless has her end up as a stripper in twenty years?
Dude, parenting is hard.