This morning, post shower, I was having an excruciatingly tough time getting Boy-o dressed. In the, I-know- you're-talking-to-me-Mama,-but-I'm-pretending-you-don't-exist-while-playing-guitar-in-my-snappy-Diego- underwear sort of way. And just as my frustration was about to peak, Boy-o looks up at me and says: "But Mama! Remember when we went to the Pride Parade at City Hall and there were people in their underwear? In the middle of the day? Well, that's what I want to do."
And I couldn't for the life of me argue with that logic. Diego underwear it is.
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