I dress the Gibber in the morning: A onesie underneath, then some kind of shirt and some kind of pants. I know enough not to put stripes and plaids together (though one morning I did do this), but I do not know why (perhaps some kind of anti-matter reaction?) We’re guys. It’s just clothing. You wear it, wash it, and at some point it turns into rags for wiping stuff up (or your “favorite shirt” vanishes somehow, very spooky, I’ve never figured that out). The world is a mysterious place.
Wife: “Don’t you want to use that shirt with its matching <somethingOrOther>?”
I have to admit complete bewilderment. These arrived in sets? How do you keep track of all of this?
I mumble something about “Well, that’s the way I planned it, because <inventedExcuse…>”, and so the Gibber goes to daycare dressed funny, a lot like his old man. Sometimes I wish the old “Um, I’m color-blind, remember?” worked on more than just red and green, say, types of pants. And plaid.