|Back cover picture.|
"Preferred Attire: Naked With Tasteful Scarf"
"An hour or two later, they're at it again, this time removing the snowsuit. Apparently it annoys them when I'm content. Someone immediately jumps to undress, re-dress or change me. They don't seem to hear my protests, over their hushes and grins and rapid maneuvers to confine my flailing limbs in garments. Their smiles, meant to soothe me, are usually offensive; must be nice to don sleeves only when you feel like it.
And just when I think I'll get a moment to myself, they assume I peed again. Do I enjoy sitting in a wet diaper? No, not really. But do I celebrate being forced on my back, feet lingering at my nose as a cold, wet wipe makes its way across my bottom? Dirty diaper please. With the remarkable advances in diaper technology, this is a no brainer."
I imagine some discussion of baby dresses, second in utility only to size-3-months sandals. "What makes you think I want to sit on bunched up pink tulle? The fact that I stopped wrestling with the huge bow you strapped on me, a sequined head-belt of sorts? I was losing the battle to win the war. Imagine my unbridled glee when I ended up in this flamboyant web of an outfit anyway."
She will conclude with a chapter devoted to hats, because "it's never cold enough in New York to make hat-layering a thing. Throw a hood on me and let's take that walk. I'm wearing a onesie, pants, pants (not a typo), socks, a sweater, and naturally, the snowsuit. We've been through enough today."