My Sweetie is an awesome daddy, seriously, awesome. He is funny, patient and kind and he totally takes joy in the job; BUT occasionally he dresses our only child like Hunter S. Thompson
"YAH?" grinning and wrangling a pair of bright orange socks onto the Bear's feet.
"Are you really going to put him in that?"
Then, addressing Teddy as he yanks the kid's pants up past his nipples, "Looking good there fella... LOOK-ing good"
Under my breath, "I think my eyeballs are bleeding"
Out loud, "That is definitely a LOOK. Hey Sweetie, just out of curiosity, were you ever tested for colour blindness?".
Sure I could just say "no way is he wearing that!" but even the loopiest outfits are chosen with care (I just don't necessarily get the logic behind them). My Sweetie takes so much joy in these sartorial shenanigans that there's no way I would deny him them. And he is, after all, the other half of this parenting team. I know that Teddy is lucky to have a daddy who wants to be involved in the little things, even if some days that means that he looks like he's about to go on a road trip in the Red Shark with a crazed Samoan lawyer.