Once the children had let go of their manic death grip on his legs, he pulled out the souvenirs. Tee-shirts for everyone (myself included). The boys snatched theirs up and ran to try them on.
For us girls, he had two shirts - both the same size - and said that Hannah and I could decide between us which one we wanted.
[Pause for interjection: Obviously, I am not a child size 7, nor will I attempt to squeeze myself into one. The shirt for Hannah will be a little big. Just clarifying in case you had me confused with Kate Moss. Or Hugh Hefner's girlfriend(s). Now back to our story.]
Hannah, whose favorite color this week happens to be blue, took the blue one. Not really caring which one I got, I happily agreed.
And then I read the shirts.
Here is the black one (rejected by Hannah on the basis of color alone):
Aaaaand, the blue one. Her shirt of choice:
Seriously. I tried to tell her what a cute pajama shirt it will make, and her eyes welled up with tears. "Why? Why can't I wear it to school?"
I know she doesn't get it, but her teachers certainly will.
And once again, I have become THAT mother. Yay me.