![]() | w@rdrobe m@lfunction |
[ETA: You'd be shocked at how very many creepy Google searches that title originally turned up. Or anyhow, I would be. But then again, I'm naive. I'm just changing it now.]
Audrey has a little pink-and-white-striped… um… outfit. It’s very cute and used to belong to Abigail, back in the day. But I cannot remember for the life of me whether it’s a daytime outfit or a pajama thing.
Dane says it’s a pajama, and it could be, but it has pockets. Two of them. With pink fairies on them. The cuffs on the sleeves are long and sleepwear-like, though, so I put it on her at bedtime last night. It seemed pajama-ish enough. Then this morning when she woke up, she already looked dressed, so I just let her keep it on. Maybe it’s a convenient multi-purpose garment. Or possibly it’s part of a sick experiment to see how sleep-deprived parents handle ambiguity.
The tag doesn’t say ‘not intended for use as sleepwear,’ which makes me think sleepwear. But then, it also doesn’t say ‘wear snug-fitting—not flame resistant,’ and it certainly ISN’T flame-resistant, which makes me think not-sleepwear. Why does infant clothing carry more warning labels than a bottle of cold medicine, anyhow? And is it problematic that this thing has exactly ZERO warnings? Should I take that as some kind of warning in and of itself?
If my wardrobe required this much deliberation, I would never get dressed.
[technorati tags: mom, baby, baby clothes, cold medicine]




sometimes you don’t
Hey, even grown-up clothing can be more difficult than you’d think.
A couple of my favorite warning labels of all time:
SPEAR GUN: Do not point directly at face.
BAG OF PEANUTS: Caution: may contain peanuts.
PACKAGE OF BATTERIES: Batteries not included.
Go figure.
We had a package arrive today COVERED in useful warnings, to be sure we didn’t damage the plastic-wrapped, cardboard-entombed GLOBE inside. How fragile can a kids’ globe really be?