But look how cute they are...
Can't you just see Allie's radiating enthusiasm? She liked the pajamas, but seemed slightly less than overwhelmed with the idea of her baby sister having the same ones.
Oh and here's Clara giving Allie love...
How adorable is that blob of hot pink sweetness?
And I also admit that at the point these pictures were taken they had been wearing these same pajamas for the last 48 hours. At least. But today the madness ended. Hot water and soap and clean non-VonTrapp family like clothing prevailed.
And the man seemed relieved. Because my girls were not the only one sporting the same PJs for two days straight. And I think he was worried I would soon start drinking vodka for breakfast and developing an unhealthy attachment for the residents of Salem. I looked that up by the way. I don't watch Soaps, I promise. Or drink Vodka. For Breakfast.
And then we took our newly clean and clothed selves out to dinner. Our family goes to dinner together at least once a week. And typically it goes well...but we could tell almost immediately this was not going to be the case tonight.
First we lost Ben.
Oh relax, it was just a little BBQ place. But somehow when they sat us we managed to leave Ben in the entryway, and it took us a few minutes to notice. Because with a big family, plus an extra, it takes a few minutes to arrange a highchair, get coats off and decide who is sitting where. Which is when we discovered we had an empty place. I ran back to find him standing very dejected in the entryway. Poor little guy. But really he should learn to keep up.
I kid. I felt guilty, I swear. But I still can't help but wonder why the hostess didn't bring him over to us. Did she think he was waiting for the rest of his party to arrive?
The rest of the dinner was a downhill slide from there. Ben dumped his milk all over himself and Allie's friend. After we told him repeatedly to stop playing with it. And I scooped him up dripping and said harshly "Now, look what you did!" Ah yes, one of my finer parenting moments. So he started wailing and I apologized and hugged him while convincing him to stop crying, as I ignored the condemning glares of the other patrons. And man, those barbecue eaters can stare you down. I have found the crowd at the Mexican restaurant to be much more forgiving. Maybe it's the margaritas.
And then Clara cried the entire time because we wouldn't allow her to play with her milk. And there seemed to be an exorbitant amount of getting in and out of the booth: potty runs and something about Allie's friend being left handed. I guess they were clashing elbows. Lets just say the restaurant seemed to give a collective sigh of relief as we herded everyone out the door.
And when we got home? We all got back in our pajamas. Okay different pajamas. Clean pajamas. But still...some days getting dressed is just overrated.