Perfect

It is official: I do not piss off absolutely everyone in my path.

Today was a rainy dreary day here at casa cystah. One of those kind of days that makes it hard to get out of bed, ya know?

After hitting the snooze as many times as the law will allow, I stumble up the stairs to wake up the two older kidlets. I help N, the 4 year old, get dressed. He is so cute when he is still sleepy, I can still see those faint traces of babyhood. God, I love that. Anyway, once he shakes off the fog of sleep, he pipes up, "I wanna wear my Scooby clothes."

"Okay", I reply.

"No, I wanna wear Scooby Doo, get my Scooby clothes out, please!", N insists.

Mentally, I'm thinking that I'm not arguing with him, but whatever. I get the requested outfit down from his closet, and help him on with his shirt (it has neck-buttons, and he doesn't quite have those down yet). I straighten out his shorts and he's good to go. And such a handsome little guy, I'll add without prejudice.

He's beaming, obviously pleased with this state of affairs. "Oh, thank you mama! I look perfect.", he says with more than a little pride. Okay, so the kid's not humble.

See, I am a people-pleaser, after all.