Move over Hugh, Mallory's now the biggest thing to hit pajama town. Okay, maybe with a little less satin and a few more actual bunnies, but jammies all the same. Our girl is on day 8 of straight pj attire. If I even suggest anything other than a 1 piece nighttime ensemble, all hell breaks loose. WWII looks like tea time compared to the fit that ensues if I try to come between my girl and her beloved sleep gear. I've tried placing a few suitable outfits in her jammy drawer, but Mals knows better. She can sniff out a pj impostor like a blood hound. So jam-bows it is.
Brady digs her form of self expression and has reminded me to sit tight, ride this one out, because this too shall pass. He is so wise.....so wise.
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