Oh, Caroline.

This morning, as with every morning, we were scrambling to get out the door for school. I had everyone dressed before breakfast (that doesn't always happen), everyone got a good breakfast (this doesn't always happen), and we started bundling up to head out to the car. I had "preheated" the car, since it was 31 out there this morning. I had found everyone's hat and mittens, everyone had on a coat, I had packed some things we'd need while we were out. I'd even remembered both Caroline's backpack and the gallon of apple juice she was supposed to bring for her Thanksgiving feast. (Because no Thanksgiving feast is complete without apple juice.) I had managed to keep my cool and not get irritated with anyone as we were leaving, and I was feeling pretty good about things.

Then, as I was walking her up to the steps to her preschool, I noticed that I had failed to do her hair. Or even brush it. Oh well, it was looking long and wavy and lovely nonetheless. No big deal.

It wasn't until I picked her up from school and brought her home that I discovered...

When I'd sent her upstairs to grab a sweater or sweatshirt for school, she had instead grabbed a white 2T (as in, for 2-year-olds) onesie and put it on under her shirt. And added a pair of tight-fitting pajama shorts under her jeans, just for good measure. (It's possible that she may know a man that wears boxer briefs, and she often tries to recreate that look herself.)

All would have still been well, except that she got hot at school. So she removed her shirt and just wore her onesie (!) and jeans ... with the top of her jammie shorts visible above the waistband of her jeans. I'm still slightly mortified.