Inspired by this very funny post, these are my five stages of dressing Cub as according to Cub (or so I imagine, and since her capacity for non-stop commentary is rapidly increasing, my imagination doesn't need to be that good). I could make this list about 20 stages long but that would be against the principles of the blog, so here's a summary.
(Kudos to Husband, who attempts the first three stages of this precipitous task almost every morning before he goes to work, occasionally in place of eating his breakfast.)
1 : Get dressed? Why on earth would I want to do that?! I've got stuff to do. Like washing my hands with 'soup' eight times and putting your socks on my giant Ikea toy dog's feet. Be away with your 'getting dressed'. Turn the tap off, you say? Sorry, I can't hear you.
2 : I do NOT want the elephant nappies, thanks. Only the birdie ones. We don't have any? Well, that's your problem. And while we're at it, I don't like trousers, and I see no problem with wearing socks and tights at the same time. Don't foist your meaningless dressing conventions upon me. I'm running away from you now, and just to be sure you understand that, I will do it whilst shouting 'I'm running away from you!'
3 : Oh, all right. But only because you said I can watch five episodes of Peppa Pig after breakfast. And don't think for a moment that I'll forget that's what you promised. And don't even try to fob me off with that Noddy rubbish.
5 : For the love of God, mother, HELP ME. Do you really expect me to be able to do my shoes up by myself? And a ZIP?! I'm two, for goodness' sake, TWO. I'm going to need psychotherapy later in life to deal with your unreasonable expectations. Well, it's too late now. The damage is done. Now think about what you've done whilst I sit here in the hallway crying inconsolably.
*she actually says this last bit, whilst pointing insistently to the other side of the room/ house/ universe.