I wonder often what my boys will be like. I wonder more so about Bones. Marching to the beat of his own drummer, NOBODY picks out that boy’s clothes. He has a style all his own. Sure there have been some fashion faux pas… like THIS one, but overall, he just seems to know what he wants and it usually looks pretty good.
His favorite outfit right now consists of his suitcase pants, a black short sleeved t-shirt (preferably Pirates of the Caribbean) and black leather lace up shoes. He had a FIT when we were to meet Eric and I informed him the Pirates of the Caribbean shirt was dirty and we weren’t going to meet people in dirty clothes. A black batman t-shirt sufficed. Bones may love to take a bath, but he loathes me to wash his favorite clothes. My mantra in this house has become, “We do not wear dirty clothes.” I can tolerate a lot, but dirty clothes is one of my lines of demarcation. I have to actually hide some of his clothes in my hamper when they get dirty or he’ll try to wear them out of his hamper over and over. It makes me nuts.
He is 6. He thinks he’s a tough guy. He struts. The world is his.
So I should not have been surprised the other day when he declared to Me, God, and Country, “When I grow up, I’m going to smoke cigars and own a gun!”
Yup. He’s the man. I hope he eventually gets a clue that he won't be catching the women if he insists on wearing dirty clothes...