All this to say, my kids dress like jerks. Ohmigod, just kidding, don’t judge! They’re not jerks at all. But they do dress like typical boys and, well, once upon a time I got to dress them however I pleased. Ahh, those were the days. I mean, is there anything more adorable than a blond-haired boy in little surfer shorts and muscle tees? (The answer is no.)
Before you go attacking me for being superficial, just know that I know that what our children wear is meaningless. There are far more important things to focus on, namely raising healthy, happy, decent beings. Which is why I don’t say a single word when my 6-year-old emerges from his room in a florescent green T-shirt paired with orange shorts. Or when my 3-year-old refuses to wear anything, including underwear, that doesn’t have some sort of superhero logo attached. The truth is, they’re always so proud of their outfits and (perceived) matching abilities. Plus, it builds character. Independence, too.
That said, I miss the days of dressing them in pint-sized version of what I would have wanted my boyfriend to wear back when we were 18 (think striped hoodies, plaid shorts, fedora). I miss putting my babies in ripped jeans and little T-shirts with slogans like, “I CAN” and “SAVE THE EARTH.” Or how about a Guns ‘N’ Roses tee one day, sky blue polo shirt the next? And don’t even get me started on miniature skinny ties (especially ones with skulls and cross bones), or black-and-white checkered Vans. Oh, the fun we had!
Now they dress in Angry Bird tees and Diddy Kong hats. I’m grateful they have their own style (if you want to call it that), and I’m glad they know what they like. But, man, what I wouldn’t do for one more day of dress-up.