It’s Dada’s Shirt

My son came up to me the other day really, really wanting to change his shirt. He was quite certain that it was his Daddy’s shirt he had on.

“No me shirt, Dada shirt!” he kept insisting.

I could see the confusion. The shirt was a collared one much more in the style my husband wears, rather than what my son usually wears. I reassured him that it was indeed his own shirt and eventually he believed me.