Are Realistic Dinosaur Pajamas Too Much to Ask?

Sometimes when I dress the baby, I choose clothes I know my two-year-old will like.

That means dinosaurs. Lots and lots of dinosaurs.

My son loves it when I bring his baby brother out in something covered with cute pictures of ancient murder beasts.

I blame Don Bluth. Ever since we first watched The Land Before Time, the only movies we get to see anymore must have dinosaurs.

The kid's obsessed.

And he can school most adults in paleontology. Most days, he'll tell you his favorite dinosaur is Brachiosaurus. He won't go to sleep at night without his stuffed Tyrannosaurus rex. And he can make a seriously legit Spinosaurus out of Play-Doh.

The only thing he doesn't know about dinosaurs is not to look so happy with a Spinosaurus in the room.

But for all he knows about dinosaurs, my son still can't identify some species on his little brother's pajamas.

I'll give him a break, though; they didn't exactly make it easy. Like, what the Cretaceous is this thing?

Or this thing?

I want to believe that last one is some kind of Saurolophus, but I don't have enough faith in the clothing designers to think it's actually anything more than a huggy T. rex with an overbite and tumors on its back.

And really, did an Apatosaurus and a Stegosaurus have a baby, or something?

What is going on?

I probably shouldn't care so much, but my child expects me to have answers. If I can't tell him what kind of dinosaur is on his brother's pajamas, he might not come to me with the important questions later.

These adorable, irresponsible designs make me look inept in front of my toddler. Are realistic dinosaur pajamas too much to ask?

My son watches Thomas the Tank Engine. I'm sure he can handle an accurate scene of Jurassic carnage printed on pajamas.

But then . . . there is Carnotaurus. . . .

Latin for "Holy snowballs, I've soiled myself."
Image credit: Primal Carnage Wiki

On second thought, cute is nice. I'll go with cute.