It's not rocket science. It's not brain surgery. But, in the middle of the night, when you have to get up to change the baby only to discover your child is wearing the fabric equivalent of Fort Knox - you might as well be asking me to difuse a nuclear bomb blindfolded. Snaps.
Oh those little, round, ridiculous buttons that mock you with every clickity clack of their closure! Why in the world are SO many baby clothes made with these? And, we're not talking one, two, three snaps that might keep the basic onesie in place...no, we're talking full baby body armor here.
It seems simple enough - pinch together, close, pinch together, close. You start at the top, snap snap snap...you are on your way to success! Then, you reach the legs only to discover a minefield of confusion. You start down the right legged maze - snap snap... "What's this? A gap?"
So you proceed down the left side - snap snap - "What have we here? An extra button?"
Nothing is matching up. Surely the manufacturer made a mistake here. But - it fit her before, surely there must be an answer! You start again, and again, and eventually you find the perfect solution...
"I've done it!" you announce to your spouse as you proudly present your fullly clothed baby back to them, only to see the look of shock on their face when they discover you've now duct-taped your baby's pants back into place.
What's so wrong with a zipper? Whatever happened to velcro?
I don't know about you, but I haven't met that many babies who are in such a rush to be changed that they need breakaway jammies. Is there an underground operation of baby superheroes out there that need to quick-change into their baby superhero uniforms
Getting babies clothed is hard enough as it is.
Step 1: Giant head through onesie top.
Step 2: Wiggling arm through straw-sized sleeve.
Step 3: Repeat step two, other side.
Step 4: Snap at crotch over hopefully-not-yet-filled-newly-changed diaper
And that's just for the "under shirt". By the time you get the arm/arm, leg/leg combo done on the outer layer, the last thing your baby wants to do is wait patiently while you fasten them into their fuzzy flannel deathtrap we call jammies. Let's just say it is a good thing they make baby clothes so gosh darn cute these days to make it worth the effort. Otherwise Matilda might find herself stuffed into a snuggie or rolled up in one of the million flannel receiving blankets, burrito-baby-style.