You Gotta Love Him

After church on Sundays and before my car has turned into our driveway, my children begin desperately clamoring out of their dress clothes. Shoes, socks, and hair bows fly through the air in attempts to disengage from all attire that could possibly suggest that they are well groomed.

Confines of ties, belts, and tights clearly suffocate the individual tastes of each child, which is why when given the opportunity to change into play clothes, it is accomplished with a joy that surpasses any concern for color coordination or current weather conditions.

In this tenth year of parenting, we find that it takes concerted effort and notice on our part to give attention to a phenomenon that has admittedly become commonplace in our household. Every once in a while, a particular ensemble chosen by one of our children causes exaggerated pause, and even disbelief, as we try to understand the reasoning behind the choice that can only fall into the clothing category of fugitive.

Today, Chandler brought us out of our fog of outfit denial when he showcased the following threads he would be playing in for the afternoon.

His upper body is prepared for the cold while his lower body is ready for the warmth. In his seven year old mind, all bases were covered.



Notice that a turtle neck turned inside out is of no concern to a child whose main objective is to fly his new, remote controlled airplane. Not to mention, that if there was any question as how to properly wash and dry this shirt, the instructions are available for all to see.

(The blue gatorade highlighting his upper lip will be a mainstay the remainder of the day.He is still unaware of his blue mustache which should coordinate well with the uniform he will wear to school in the morning.)



Obviously, there isn't time to change from dress sock to athletic socks when precious moments that could be spent playing outside are at stake. Substitute a grown man's stained undershirt for the turtleneck to coincide with the dress socks and you get a small glimpse of Chandler's in 40 years, lounging in a recliner adorned with a fancy cup holder and a firm grip on the remote control.

He, too, will be ignoring the mismatched clothes of his offspring until an inside-out shirt demands his attention and disbelief.