When I arrived at the Emerald City last night to pick up the little angel, I took one look at her and thought she was wearing a costume:  red and white gingham pantaloons and a red, Peter-Pan-collared tent with flowers and more of the horrid gingham.  This with her tennis shoes. 

I found out that this is what happens when you don't send extra clothes to daycare.  I've known for a while she was out of extra clothes, but since she rarely has accidents anymore (she's still in diapers), I didn't really worry about it too much. Obviously, they sensed this in me.  They could smell my apathy. And they struck back.

When we arrived home, my beloved was sitting outside, ready to go to the park.  I called him over and told him he needed to go back inside for extra clothes.  "Why?" he said, exasperated.  I pointed him to the backseat. At this point, the little angel had added hot-pink Dora the Explorer sunglasses and a Cubs hat.  He drew back in horror.

"What is THAT?" he said.

"That is what revenge looks like."  He went back in for more clothes.

Today she went to daycare with three extra outfits.