My Auntie Barb has provided Nolan with half of his wardrobe -- perhaps three quarters is more accurate. She lives in Houston, and sends him all kinds of teeny overalls and smart zip-up sweaters that we can't buy up here in the tundra. He has a little Sesame Street jean jacket from her that is so cute I want to hang it on a wall in his room.

Auntie Barb's most recent shipment included an Elmo football jacket, a jean shirt, a brown-and-orange striped sweater, two plaid shirts and an awesome little burgundy-piped white sweater vest. I dressed Nolan this morning in his zipped pocket jeans and a new red plaid shirt, and then, with glee, went to don the sweater vest.

Nolan shook his head "no" as I attempted to put his pudgy arm through the vest.
"No?" I asked.
"Nonono," he concurred, shaking his head again for emphasis.
"You don't like the vest?"
"No!"
"Oh."

So I let him get away with it for awhile, perhaps he was crotchety because he wanted outside, perhaps he was formulating a plan for world peace, who the hell knows what goes on in a toddler's brain? But I tried to sneak it on him a couple hours later before we went to the park and he shook his head no again. If I didn't know better, I'd think he doesn't like the vest. But twenty-month olds can't exhibit clothing preferences yet, can they?

I guess my days of dressing him in ridiculous hats are over.