It seems my 6 year old son has morphed into a fucking preteen girl. These quirks are getting monotonous.
The scene: School clothes shopping
A little background you need to know - last school year there were knock down drag out early morning cage matches between me and Aidan over his clothes. Most often it was me being absolutely ludicrous by refusing to let him wear #1 the same thing he wore the day before, #2 a shirt that says High School Chicks Rule, #3 pants with a hole in the crotch or a shirt with BBQ sauce stains or #4 underwear - God forbid!
I decided this year he will be picking out his clothes and he'll be wearing the damn things with no lip about it. Uh, yeah, things didn't exactly work out. He refuses to wear shorts with buttons, zippers, belts or belt loops. Forget that the belt can be taken off, let's not interject logic and reason into this, mkay? Also, every shirt he picked out was a grey t-shirt. No collars, no buttons, nothing that could be construed as dressing as though you might give a shit about looking decent. Socks, how hard could socks be? Oh, let me just tell you how hard socks can be. They must be grey at the toes and heel. They must be ankle socks, nothing higher or lower. Shoes, I can't even talk about the outrageous cluster-fuck ordeal that was shoe shopping with him.
I give up, the little punk can wear a grey t-shirt with ratty basketball shorts, no underwear, the same old pair of tennis shoes every damn day of his life if he choses. I'll pack his lunch and drop him off at school and be done with it. He can take it up with his therapist in 20 years.