And they weren't even ladybugs

After nap this afternoon, Will and I made a trip to the "pajama store," aka the new Carter's/Osh Kosh outlet on our side of the border.

The selection of PJs was a bit disappointing. I was hoping for more footless, one-piece jammies, but the summer stock for toddlers was purely tops and bottoms. The girls' pants also tended to be that slippery faux-satin material, so after choosing one pair with an apple motif we wandered over to the other side of the store.

An act which caused one of the sales associates to rush over in a panic.

My daughter had already spotted a pair covered in brightly coloured bugs (the shirt declared, "don't bug me!"), and we were trying to decide between a crocodile and a dinosaur when the clerk made it over.

"Um. Hi! Has she seen the ones . . . " She gestured to the girls' side of the store. "There are lots of pajamas over there. You know. Too."

"You mean on the girls' side?"

"Yes! The girls' side." She seemed relieved that I knew why she was upset. "She would probably like them. They are really cute."

Will, meanwhile, had chosen her favourite pair. "Crocodile! And bird! Yellow bird!"

"I think she likes these ones."

I almost bought a package of boys' briefs just to make her fear a little more for my child's gender identity, but thought it might be a bit much. Will liked the purple ones better, anyway.