It was never a question of if but when. S has come into her own fashion sense. H has broken me in, so I am fine with the fact that S is wearing jeans, her pajama top, a flower sun dress and purple boots.
What I was not prepared for, but I should have seen coming, what with S's guillotine personality and all, is that when shes done wearing something, shes done. It will come off. It doesn't matter where we are or who we're with, the offending article of clothing will come off and will not be reapplied.
It happened yesterday at the playground. S was done with her shirt. I tried twice to get it back on, and then had to abandon ship. I made my way back to the car carrying a half naked S who was trying to head butt me and dragging H who was muttering about it not being fair that she had to leave because her sister wouldn't keep her shirt on and why do all her friends sisters keep their shirts on and so on. I glanced back at the park and because clothing removal is contagious among the 2yr old set, saw the domino effect of mothers trying to keep clothing on their children while shooting me dirty looks.
And speaking of dirty looks. S is the master. I have been told I glared at people when I was a baby. S glares at everyone. The glares are getting more frequent, more pronounced and more precise. We went to get shoes today. I had S's feet measured as I was sure her shoes were too tight and that was the reason she won't keep them on. No. They fit, but she apparently doesn't like them. She locked onto a pair of canvas shoes, striped with bright colors with a plastic heart on top. They're cute. They were on sale. They didn't have them in her size. She already had her shoes off and the striped ones on. They were just 1/2 a size too big, they'll fit her soon, so I went to the register to pay. I got them away from S so we could pay, I think the cashier needed the box- I'm not sure what she took from S, but she jumped back startled, incredulous, she asked, "Did you see that look?!"
"Uh huh. I don't know what to do with her."
"Better you than me. That's what they say... if looks could kill..."
She rung us up. I paid.
Then she said "Should I give her the shoes so she doesn't kill me?"