Underooses

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Saturday night, Aunt Hilary bought Robbie a present – Spider-Man Underoos.  The first thing he asked for Sunday morning was his new Underoos, and he put them on telling me he didn’t wear underpants anymore – only Underooses like his dad.  Throughout the day, Robbie took every opportunity to show off his new Underoos, stripping down twice at my mom’s house while he was over there playing.

I figured that was pretty well the end of the Underoos and worked on getting Robbie ready for bed.  However, he was quick to inform me that he would not be wearing jammies anymore.  He proudly exclaimed, “I’m not wearing jammies anymore.  I’m sleeping in my Underooses and undershirt like Daddy.”

Just to clarify, and a little perplexed because it was cold and Robbie is firmly devoted to his jammies, I said, “So, let me get this straight.  You are not sleeping in jammies tonight?’

“No.”

“You are sleeping in your underwear and t-shirt?”

“No,” Robbie replied, becoming exasperated by my obvious stupidity.  “I’m sleeping in my UNDEROOSES and UNDERshirt.”

Robbie went on to explain to me that he wouldn’t be wearing a diaper because “I don’t pee in my Underoos.”  While I admire Robbie’s determination to stay dry at night, I didn’t trust it.  After he fell asleep, I put a diaper on under the coveted Underoos.  This morning, he came bounding down stairs, exclaiming, “Mom!  I didn’t pee in my Underoos!”

I looked at him, a little confused.  Finally, I said, “Robbie, you know you’re wearing a diaper, right?”

“Oh,” he responded, looking down.  “No.  I didn’t know that.”

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