Olivia, 8, my vivacious middle kid, has suddenly declared war on getting dressed for school. It hit new heights when she refused every clothing I laid out the night before. And here I am, standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand, wondering, “Is it too early for this?”.

Her eyes lit up,and just like that, we had a morning pact.But here’s the twist: things didn’t go exactly as planned. Olivia, dressed in unicorn-themed pajamas, got into the car and we drove away. The customary morning conversation was replaced by an unsettling hush. I could see the wheels turning in her little head, wondering if she had entered the twilight zone of parenting.

When we arrived at the school, reality hit us hard. Olivia was now unsure about her fashion statement. “Dad, can we go back?” I want to change!” she cried, seeming to stress out. I stood firm, determined to teach her a lesson about options. “Sorry, kiddo, we’re committed to the PJs today.”My wife found out about it. I could see it coming, but I was expecting for a more positive reply Fast forward to the nighttime, and play the dramatic music. My wife, Emily, walked in, took one look at Olivia, and the temperature in the room fell.

Later, in the peaceful sanctuary of our living room, Emily let out her thoughts. “Really, Jake?” PJs for school? We look like parents who have given up.” I put up my best case, saying that it was a one-day experiment and a real-world lesson in decision-making. But Emily wouldn’t have it. “You embarrassed her,” she stated. As the conversation progressed, I began to wonder the wisdom of my morning brilliance.