“Why you wearing Daddy’s shirt?” Isabelle asked me during breakfast.
I glanced down at my blouse. “This isn’t Daddy’s shirt,” I replied.”It’s a Daddy shirt!” Isabelle declared.
“No, it isn’t. It’s a ladies’ button-down blouse.”
“It’s a man shirt! It’s not for ladies! You took it from Daddy,” Isabelle insisted.
“First of all, this isn’t Daddy’s shirt. Does Daddy wear shirts with pintucks like these?” I gestured to the front of the blouse.
“Yes,” she said.
“He really doesn’t, Isabelle. And second of all, ladies wear button-down shirts too.”
“But it looks like a man’s shirt. Mans wear buttons, not ladies,” she whined.
“I assure you, it is a ladies’ blouse.”
“It looks like Daddy’s,” she repeated.
I decided to drop it. Clearly, I wasn’t going to win this one.
“Here’s what I think,” I started. “You need to finish your breakfast. Take another bite of your English muffin.”
And just like that, we moved on.