Second: After I have fixed one of them 3-4 times, apparently I still didn't do it right, so here is the second whine and pout face I get, and a verbal reminder, "No that's just not right, I need it "Bigger and bigger." ... "Just bigger and deeper."..."Downer and downer."
Third: After I roll his sleeve up the right way, he must go over it with his fingers to flatten and straighten the ridge of the fold.
Fourth: He holds up his arms, as to compare the two, and tells me "Now the other one."
Fifth: Immediately he displays another sad face to remind me, again, that they aren't the same, and that I need to fix them.
Sixth: He points out that I need to "make it just like this", pointing to the sleeve that has finally been rolled up correctly, according to his standard.
Seventh: He adjusts the second sleeve once it has been folded correctly.
Eighth: Finally, the smile of satisfaction. Both "sleebes" are rolled up just right!Seriously, I miss the days when it was just the tag that bothered him. That was an easy fix, just cut it out, or better yet just buy shirts from Old Navy or Children's Place, both tag less. This sleeve thing is much more detail oriented and must be done just right or I hear about it until it is fixed or he decides to change into another shirt, in hopes that I can get the next shirts' sleeves right. This fetish is not just directed towards me. Grandma and Uncle Tyson couldn't even get it right when they watched him while we were in Alabama. Note to self - Pack only short sleeve shirts.
My solution? ... Hide all his long sleeve shirts!
We love him though, clothes fetish and all. He is a sweet little boy and he received a sweet package from his sweetheart, who he misses a lot. Here's a message to his pen pal...