For Kathleen's birthday in August, we gave her a pink leotard and ballet shoes.  This was not preparation for any ballet classes, but because she and Sophia enjoy watching Swan Lake and being ballerinas.

That present was the first manifestation of If She Has It I Want It Too.  Last Christmas, Sophia didn't care much what Kathleen got because the most popular present was a dollhouse that stayed at my parents when we left.  By Kathleen's birthday, however, Sophia had a strong idea of parity.

So for Christmas, a pink leotard showed up for Sophia.  She and Kathleen also were given beautiful, pouffy princess dresses, but the leotard was even better.  After months of having to ask Kathleen for permission to wear Kathleen's (which, to Kathleen's credit, was usually granted), Sophia finally had one of her own that she didn't have to ask anyone about.  And so every day, by some of point of the day, Sophia would usually end up in her leotard.

In addition to being fond of a pink leotard and going by Odette fifty percent of the time, Sophia is not a morning person.  And unfortunately for Sophia, part of the morning involves getting dressed.  Being two and being in possession of an opinion, Sophia enjoys using it whenever possible, especially when choosing clothes is involved.  By the time she is dressed and sitting at the table, she is usually crying or grumpy because there was no magic option that appeared out of thin air to satisfy her changeable two year-old whim.  But, such is life for a child.

This Sunday, I greeted Sophia with the usual question, in the vain hope of hurrying her along.  "What would you like to wear, sweetie?"

She stared at me, and a crafty look spread over her face.  "Ummm, may I wear my leotard?"

I'm a firm believer in wearing clothes at table.  Even if the girls want to run around in their underwear because they're 'being animals,' they have to get dressed for meals.  Everyone has their standards.  So I thought for a moment.  Leotards are about the most minimal level of clothing possible, but they are washable, and it would make her less grouchy.  I agreed.

Sophia was happy, breakfast was reasonable, and she never bothered to change to anything else for the rest of the day.  Monday morning the same question was asked, and again she showed up to breakfast in her pink leotard.  The only time it was removed Tuesday was to go to the park.  Wednesday was nothing but leotard, and Thursday was a repeat of Tuesday.

The leotard is, by now, quite filthy, but Sophia is happy.  And it saves me doing more laundry.  So I am, too.