I had one of those “ah-ha” moments yesterday while putting away some of Ted’s laundry. Not that putting away clothes is anything special. Between the ever-present drool and the occasional poop explosion, the kid generates a lot of laundry. But as I was hanging the pajamas in his closet and stacking the onesies in his dresser drawers, I started wondering why exactly all baby clothes are so brightly colored, and covered in cutesy designs and animals and whatnot.

The answer of, “that’s just the way baby clothes are” does not satisfy me. You could say that they look cute just to please all the adults that may come in contact with the little one so as to counteract the various unpleasant sounds and/or odors that they may otherwise be subjected to. While that may be true, I say that baby fashion is also absolutely critical for their own survival. Just like in the animal world where the more brightly-colored members of the population are the ones to find a mate and keep the species going, the cuter your little one looks, the less likely you are to disown them no matter what they do, thereby increasing their chances of survival.

Let’s say, for example, that your kid accidentally burns the house down. Even as he stands next to the charred rubble that was once your home, you can’t possibly be mad at him if he’s got puppies on his footed pajamas. It would appear as though wardrobe cuteness is inversely proportional to the child’s age, but what if it followed a more linear progression and continued working even up through the teenage years?

“Yeah, Dad, it’s 3am and I’m just coming home, but look, I have duckies on my jeans.”