Dear Brooklyn,
After an exceptionally messy lunch that left your shirt unwearable for the rest of the day I told you to go to your room and get another shirt.
First you came back with some red pants. Nope. Go try again.
Then you cam back with some snowflake pants that should have made it to the "too small" bin a long time ago. Nope, try again.
Then you came back with some pink leggings. By now you were getting a little frustrated and almost insisted that I should at least try to put them over your head.
One more try.
Then you came back with a pink onsie that was two sizes too small.
And that is what you have been wearing ever since.
All well if someone comes over and thinks we are too poor to buy clothes that fit you.
Little will they know that you are actually spoiled rotten by your grandma's and have too many clothes to count.
And you are too short to reach your shirts that are hanging up in your closet.
Tomorrow I will stop being lazy and will help you pick out clothes that fit.
Or better yet I will pack away all your clothes that are too small.
And I will teach you what a shirt is.
Sincerely, Lori
