A Rule Quandary

Dear Jack,

Every parent has his or her own rules. I know a lot of people scratch their heads over mine.

No eating chicken nuggets (unknown chicken parts disturb me), but eating sand from the sand table is just fine (it's not like anyone's eating enough to make a sand castle in their gut).

Listening to curse words in Irish punk music is okay (the whole family is listening to Flogging Molly these days in memory of Uncle James and shared experiences are important), but no Disney princesses (too dependent on rescuing and not enough substance).

Going out in public wearing shorts and rainboots is okay (an expression of self), but a ten month old in public wearing nothing but a onesie is not (a onesie is baby underwear and I don't go out in underwear, so why should you).

I know other people have different rules. A lot of people whom I respect as parents have completely different rules than mine. I don't worry about it too much. I know my rules are odd and sometimes even at odds with each other, but I'm consistent and fair about them and you will learn them over time just like your sister is starting to. And frankly, the two of you are the only ones who really have the right to care too much about these rules (I don't count your dad because he's the other half of the rule making committee and therefore creates or supports all of the aforementioned rules).

I mention all of this because I had a real quandary about my rules today.

I came home at a quarter of four and your dad had a one-on-one conference call with his boss in Australia and I really needed to get you and your sister out of the house. Fast.

I had plans to meet up with a lady in Austin to buy something from craigslist and figured the round trip to and from would eat up the hour I needed to kill and as a bonus, no one would be out of the car, so what you wore to Libby's today -- a onesie -- would be good enough.

Turned out, though, the craigslist lady was out of the house and we had to fill over an hour's worth of time.

Here's the quandary: should I take you and your sister out somewhere with you in only a onesie or spend an hour cooped up in the car with both of you? Barnes and Nobles was on the way and it's really easy to kill an hour at B&N with the train table and coffee and all. But Barnes and Nobles in only a onesie? I really couldn't bring myself to do it. And ten minutes was all the car sitting you and your sister cared for.

Sigh. What to do?

Final solution? Spend the coffee budget at Old Navy (right next door to Barnes and Nobles) to buy a new shirt and shorts.

Problem solved.

And I even got over the fact that you were shoeless.

Love,
Mom