Persnickety Pickle Pants - For Real

Is it seriously Thursday already? I am blog-sucking again. Okay, that didn't come out the way I intended but it is just too awesome a sentence and visual to correct. You know what I meant...

So, my cousin decided she was going to design children's clothing. I didn't blink an eye. As crass as it sounds, cousin Corinne craps creativity. (She should probably also think about selling seashells by the seashore.) When I learned that she was calling her company Persnickety Clothing Co. I jigged a mighty jig. She is Persnickety, I am Hullabaloo. Happygasmic words exist and all is well in my world.

And then I saw the clothes. They are, seriously, the cutest clothes you ever did see (yes, even cuter than the cutest little penis you ever did see.) Now, I am done having children. For real. But, these clothes actually make my uterus sit up and scream, "Come to Mama!"


I want to dress the entire globe in them. (They actually do have a Buy One Give One program - for every item sold, they donate a beautiful dress to a third world country.) Hell, I want to wear them myself. I am aware that actually doing so would be odd and somewhat pathetic. Things delightful in Kidland don't always translate in Adultworld - like my friend's son who went with us to the health food store with his entire head covered in tin foil. On a four year old it is hysterical. A man does the same and we're all steering our children away from Uncle Pervy and his helmet of shame.

But, come on, how fabulous would I look sitting on the bar, shooting Tequila, in this outfit?