Only Legs

A big benefit of living near two of my sisters is their generosity. They like little girl clothes, and they like Jane, so that means they give Jane little girl clothes like this skirt from Sharon:

Very nice and lovely, right? But lately, Jane couldn't care less. Well, let me be fair. Shirts, jackets, and shoes are welcome (including the light blue jacket from Julie that Jane extols for it's softness and calls "totally pimp"), but Jane has a new idea for her legs, which, in my view is a stupid one. Here it is:
Those aren't short shorts, they're oversized panties. She's wearing her new favorite outfit which she aptly named "only legs." She asks for a shirt or frequently this tank top, and "only legs." Here she is admiring her new look:
As a matter of fact, as I type this she's wearing "only legs" and dancing to Adam Lambert singing on American Idol's finale. (Jane's dancing is really something that has to be seen in person to appreciate. The only way to describe it is to say it looks like a bizarro version of Elaine's bizarro dance from Seinfeld.) And here is Jane on a different day wearing "only legs." Notice we at least change her underwear:
"Who's that friend with her, Matt?" you ask. That friend is Lavender. He is a sheep. He was purchased with Easter funds from Grandma and Grandpa. Ella told me to name him. I looked at him and said, "Lavender." Jane has a few friends which you should be familiar with if you care about us at all. Her best friend is Ducky. Ducky happens to be a yellow duck. Jane's had friends fight with Ducky for the coveted position of Alpha Stuffed Friend in the past, but none have fought so valiantly as Lavender. (I should mention the friends I get her each year on Valentine's day fight for about two minutes, then roll over and die.) Jane is often found with Lavender:
"Say, Matt, where's Ducky during this shot?" you ask. Probably bawling his eyes out in the crib. Speaking of sad stuffed animals, did you know one of Jane's favorite things to do is to hold up a stuffed animal and say, "He's so sad"? Well it is. And then she comforts the stuffed animal, cradling it like a baby. Here I caught her right after she said, "Lavender so sad":
Sometimes she'll claim strange objects are "so sad." Sometimes she'll claim Daddy's foot is "so sad." And then she'll hug my foot and caress it. Of course, when we try to play, and say, "Oh Ducky's so sad," she says, "Ducky not sad. He's happy." What's not to love about a little gal like that: