dress rebellion.

For those of you that have known me for any length of time, you are aware of the degree to which I avoid wearing dresses. This isn’t anything new by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, my dislike of dresses once made it to family folklore status because of the misjudgment of appropriateness that I once made at a wedding. But not just any wedding, mind you. The wedding of Aunt Sharon and Uncle Tom. So here I am. Ornery, adorable, and very much so 3 and a half. We had driven up to Grandma’s house in Crystal Lake, IL from KC for Christmas and the wedding. Mom dressed me in vogue fashion for the time - a little gray dress with lace and a large square collar...or whatever that thing is called. I can imagine I wasn’t too pleased about having to wear it, but I did it for Aunt Sharon.

Since their wedding was right after Christmas, the whole fam was there, and I was adorable and 3, Uncle Butch and Aunt Paula gave me a Christmas present. To my joy and utter elation, the gift was not a dress, but rather an extremely comfortable looking sweater and leggings. This was it. My escape. My road to freedom from the bonds of dress-dom. What else was a 3 year old to do but strip down right then and there and change into the clearly more practical outfit as quickly as possible? What 3-year-old little me didn’t take into account was that there was a professional photographer there, the whole family was present, and it isn’t apropos to change clothes in front of a group of people. But alas, my need for freedom trumped social rules in that moment. The wedding attendees gave me grace (I’m guessing it was primarily because I was an adorable 3-year-old) and I found freedom. All during a wedding. Sorry for the upstaging, Aunt Sharon and Uncle Tom. :)