The clothes maketh the baby

“It says three to six metres,” Learner Dad said, looking at me helplessly.
I stared at him.
“The M means months, three to six MONTHS,” I said, grabbing the jumpsuit off him.
Either way, our FIVE month old wasn’t going to fit into it.
I overheard a friend say recently her slightly younger baby was moving from 000 to 00.
I didn’t mention that Li’l Fatty was in transition from 0 to 1.
And that, even though he wasn’t crawling, he’d almost bypassed ‘crawler’ nappies in favour of ‘toddler’.
I recently gave his wardrobe a clean out.
Once I’d removed all the 000 and 00 items, to be stored for a hopefully smaller bub next time, the cupboard was bare.
Almost anyway.
A handful of size 0 jumpsuits (many too tight) and a few size 1 coats (given to us for Li’l Fatty to wear NEXT winter, when he’s actually one) remained.
You see, when you have a baby, you are inundated with gifts of 000, 0000 or even 00000 clothing.
I buy them for people myself because, let’s face it, the tinier they are, the more irresistible.
We had plenty of them – tiny pairs of jeans, novelty outfits, jumpsuits, even shoes, many worn only once (usually when the person who gave it to us came to visit), some items still with tags attached.
I sighed as I folded them up and popped them in the bag.
I remembered trying to get Learner Dad interested in them in the weeks before Li’l Fatty was born.
I’d washed every little item and hung them on the clothes horse for him to cluck over.
“Isn’t this gorgeous?” I’d say, holding up a tiny pair of pants in front of him.
“Sure,” he’d answer, glancing up but lacking enthusiasm.
“What about this?” I’d ask, showing him a bib that said ‘Daddy’s Little Man’.
“Ha, yep, he’ll be wearing that one a lot,” he’d say distractedly.
Now, like every enamoured parent, he’s all about the clothes.
While before they were just tiny garments, to be gushed over by women, now they were Li’l Fatty’s tiny garments, to be gushed over by him.
The beanie was just a beanie, until Li’l Fatty put it on.
“What’s Li’l Fatty wearing today?” he’ll ask, as we get prepare to go out.
Or: “He’s got Daddy’s trackies on!” he’ll exclaim when he gets home.
And there’s nothing that excites him more than seeing Li’l Fatty ‘get the guns out’ on a hot day.
He appreciates the insane cuteness of a bucket hat on a baby, and the way a blue top brings out the colour in his son’s eyes.
Learner Dad’s favourite?
The plain old Bonds singlet.
His least?
The hand-knitted cardies I insisted Li’l Fatty wear every time we went out in winter.
As I stacked away the bags of baby clothes, I started getting out Master Seven’s old gear.
He’s had the pleasure of wearing a friend’s hand-me-downs for most of his life.
Now they’ll go to his little brother.
But, with the way he’s growing, it won’t be long before Li’l Fatty actually wears them first.

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