Alright, here’s the deal: at some point you begin to care how you look. For some this happens at five, others at fifteen, others…well, they’re the ones you see in saggy sweatpants and loose slippers shuffling through Walmart. Child Harbat has a good eye for color and can put together an outfit when she feels like it, which isn’t very often. But it works, the whole ensemble, and she pulls it off.
I guess you CAN do animal print and polka dots. The busy blouse is becalmed by a plain blue scarf. By the end of a day at school, the hair was down, the scarf misplaced, and the hair clip lost.
Let’s move on to child Number Two. While he has excruciating demands about Lightning McQueen shoes the rest of his outfit is mostly left up to randomness and convenience. After a bath and pajamas does he sometimes get an idea to go on a walk? He does. Will he consider pushing a doll stroller all the way through the neighborhood and into town? Yes. Will he look like an escapee from the Oompa Loompa Maximum Security Prison? Yes.