Yesterday, I realized that I have turned a significant corner in my career as a Momzilla.
I picked up my three year-old at summer camp to find her in one of her "extra" outfits. You know, the ones that populate the cubbies of little people who are in the interminable process of potty training. In my most patient Momzilla voice, I asked, "Honey, why are you wearing different clothes?" Her camp counselor looked at me like I was nuts.
Now, I'm not saying that I'm not nuts about an endless variety of things. But I really don't think this is one of them.
I looked back at my daughter. "Did you have an accident?"
She smiled. "Nope."
MOMZILLA [puzzled]: Um...are you sure?
DAUGHTER: Yes. [looks at Momzilla like she is a moron]
CAMP COUNSELOR: She just likes to change her outfit. [perplexed that Momzilla doesn't know this about her own child] She changes at least once every day.
MOMZILLA: But she didn't have an accident?
CAMP COUNSELOR: Nope.
MOMZILLA [still puzzled]: Are you really sure?
You see, until this moment, I had always understood the extra outfit to be a sign that my child has shat herself, or at least peed down her leg, during the day. Now, it seems, the extra outfit is just intended to throw the afternoon paparazzi off track in the event that they were looking for the pre-lunch duds.
I am, overall, relieved. Although now this means that I will have to make sure that the extra outfit is actually presentable. No more Gatorade-stained hand-me-down t-shirt from Summer Camp 2004. Well, actually, maybe that could pass as vintage. And recycled. That must count for something.