The War of the Sleeves

Every morning and every night, I fight a battle in the ongoing War of the Sleeves.

Day clothes, pyjamas, a jacket, whatever. If it has sleeves and I want it on The Little Ninja, there will be a battle.

Short sleeves, longs sleeves, the fight is the same. Anytime I try to dress him in anything with sleeves, no matter how I try to distract him, he squirms, whines and sometimes even screams in protest. His legs kick out in the targeted strikes he's named for, efficiently batting my hands away. His arms pull in and his thumbs stick out to work against me and the sleeve; he hasn't quite realised that the more he struggles, the longer it takes for the sleeves to capture the victory, the longer the battle.

I don't get it. I had heard that some babies don't like having shirts pulled over their heads, but that doesn't seem to be a problem for The Little Ninja. Just sleeves.

I hope he figures out that he can't possibly win this war. We don't live in a particularly warm part of the world. Sleeves are a big part of life here! I am unlikely to surrender when The Little Ninja might get frostbite as a result!

He does understand, however, when to wave the white flag. Once the sleeves are on and I let go of his arms, he admits his defeat and stops struggling. Clearly, I have won another battle. But the war rages on.