Max hasn’t worn shorts since the summer of 2011, and then it was only grudgingly, and for very short periods of time.
So this morning, as it’s so warm out today (and I couldn’t find any clean trousers that fit him *cough*), I figured it was about time to try the shorts again.
We have 3 pairs lying around, from last year when he point blank refused to even let me near him with them, so out they were fished from the bottom drawer, it was Go Time.
As soon as he saw them, he started crying. Saying “No! No no no NO!”, but by this point, it’s habit for him to shun anything he’s not used to, so I persevered. (That’s a Thing now, being able to persevere. I’d forgotten what it was like to have the energy to do it!)
He wasn’t happy, but let me put them on him, and stood sort of resigned, doing his grumbly cry, and was Not Happy with having to wear the shorts.
We got to nursery, and he was ok (we’re WALKING to and from nursery again finally, go Max!), but got upset the longer we had to wait.
Bad Mummy got the timing wrong and we were 5 minutes early… whoops!
By the time we were able to go in, he was in a full blown meltdown, but the staff were wonderful and knew exactly what to do. As always!
And by the time I picked him up 2.5 hours later?
I had my happy boy back.
And he’s sitting on the sofa next to me now, with his sticker book resting on his (bare!!) legs, wearing his shorts, and being adorably snuggly all at once.
You’re getting there, little man!
You’re doing SO well.
Mummy’s proud of you!
And giving herself a wee pat on the back too.
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