If the coat is an indication tonight, I feared we would be in for a long one. To say you refused tonight wold be like saying the ocean is a lap pool.
I've had some difficult times before, but tonight was the worst I've seen. When Marissa's husband opened the door to let me in you were right behind him with your purple owl hat on your head yelling "Dad-O!"
I thought we were going to have a good night!
Things took a turn for the worst the moment you saw your jacket.
You stopped listening to me and the tears began to flow. When you don't want to put your coat or even a shirt on you clench your arms to you chest and lock wrists. It's a feat of strength for us to pry them apart.
I took you screaming and kicking, from the breakfast bar to the couch for a better handle at getting your arms into the sleeves. No dice.
By this time the collar of your jacket was soaked with a combination of tears, mucus and saliva and you did your best to wrest from my grip.
Eventually I was able to get your right arm through the sleeve and it took more work but I finally go the left in as well.
Once in the truck you begged for mom and weren't satisfied until we saw her.
"Oh no, she's been crying!" mom said the moment she saw you. As I explained my ordeal I said "If we're running out to get cat food, I'm not taking her coat off. I don't want to have to do that again."
So, you went from absolute refusal to keeping your coat on for the next few hours as we ran to Target and grabbed a bite to eat at Panera.
Once we got home, as you can see in the video below, you were the happiest little thing.
I wish you could tell me why you hate your coat so much ...
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