Fancy Pants
As someone who has always been in love . . . with the perfect color, the perfect turn of phrase, the perfect rapier retort, the perfect outfit . . . I know the intense excitement my son experiences when he feels he has found the perfect whatever, because, in many ways I have never really lost this feeling.
Last week it was the perfect shoes. Being a fan of light and color myself since infancy, it was with great excitement that I bought Lucas a pair of light up sneakers. He loves them, but I must admit the motive was purely selfish because I love them too.
I will never forget the pride expressed in his voice as the daycare greeter opened the door to the car to take him out and he jumped to the ground beaming even brighter than the green lights on his shoes and said “Look at my NEW shoes!”
She grinned and they spoke about his shoes asshe walked him into the building.
Yesterday, after a fight with a cup of juice – a fight which the juice won, I took Lucas upstairs to change his clothes. Rifling through the underwear drawer he produced a pair adorned with baseballs.
“I want these.”
“Sure.”
“I want to wear them to school tomorrow too.”
“Well then you have to save them.”
“I want to save them.” he replied, and in uncharacteristic three-year old fashion, he did exactly that.
The next morning I dropped my son off. The greeter opened the car door and we said our goodbyes. Then after closing the door, I see her dissolve into hysteria.
Noticing my quizzical stare she opens the car door to the front seat and there is my son, shorts to his knees, beaming with pride as he shows her his baseball underwear.
Perhaps we should stick with white.
Outstanding. Tant-taran!!!!