As Cam and I were walking to his toddler classroom, he looked down and noticed that his shirt came apart on the side. I'm not sure the technical name for this, but it's in "nicer" shirts (for me that just means not a t-shirt) and I believe the design is so that it doesn't look super-sloppy untucked. He told me "Look, Mommy, my shirt is broken." Since I was at a loss to describe the logic of the "cut", I showed him that my shirt had one too. "It's supposed to be like that." He seemed happy with that explanation, and extremely pleased that our shirts "matched".
Luckily it was the one day this week I was not wearing a plain old "t".
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