Last week, at a time I can’t exactly recall, I was telling Timothy to put on his underwear. You see, with three-year-old children, there seems to be an unwritten rule about nudity: if you can be nude, be. Timothy takes this rule very seriously. Even though he had no real need to be dressed (we weren’t going anywhere), we’d rather not have him practicing his headstands on the couch in all his glory. So there’s a constant battle of wills over whether or not underwear will be worn at any given time. This is also because Timothy isn’t fully comfortable using the potty to contain his messes and we like to keep his frequent accidents contained.
This particular moment in history was like any other conversation with Timothy:
Me: Timothy, please put on some underwear.
Timothy: No! [does a flip on the bed where we are sitting]
Me: Timothy, you need to put some underwear on.
Timothy: No! I want my penis on!
Jamie and I fell into a fit of giggles and the underwear battle is lost for the next hour. Timothy was free to roam nude for a little while longer.