Hear it, people. Toe has chosen every day to don a pair of $7 girls' "Danskin" purple glitter sneakers he chose as his "reward" in a clearance bin at Walmart (yes, I broke my 8 year Walmart embargo because I was trapped in a desolate rural setting with cranky boys and nowhere else to shop but a countrified big bad W). The reward was for earning a stellar perfect behavior report for the whole first week of kindergarten, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time. Did I ever say I knew anything about parenting?
Toe has picked these sneakers, BTW, over his pair of perfectly-fitted and foot-health-friendly gray New Balance rompers for active boys (which he now avoids wearing with such lame excuses as "When I wear the gray shoes, scary puppies bite my feet!" and "The gray shoes make my legs melt and I can't walk--you'll have to carry me!"). Sigh. Boys will be, well...whatever.
Roo, on the other hand, has his own annoying fashion fetishes going, and I throw up my hands. Currently he will wear no shirt unless it has a dinosaur, tiger (or, in a pinch, some gnarly incarnate-looking alien being) on it. He's also not a fan of pants or socks--despite the cooling weather--and would just as soon live in nothing more restrictive than a baggy tee and his lime-green and pink Jumping Beans sandals (yah, his choice from the clearance bin).
So I have one son who looks like a star from the stage adaptation of Footloose, and another who appears to be holding pre-K Roman court. I give.
Now, I was never a boy (don't let my aggressive masculine energy fool you!), but at my lads' ages I remember having only the following wardrobe choices:
--Standard issue navy blue sneakers (with enormous white rubber bumper-car toes)
--Commemorative blue Lake Kabetogama sweatshirt (for you born after 1990, aka: "hoodie")
--Toughskin TM bluejeans (wearable weahter-resistant coarsegrain sandpaper for the legs)
--Baragain variety "girl" tee shirts (distinguishable from the bargain "boys" tees only by the decorative bands of itchy rickrack that adorned the necklines)
--Two Peter Pan-collared cotton 70s dresses (one in Bauhaus brown, one in floor-length hippie patchwork pastels) with which I was forced to wear the sweaty, unbearable sausage-casings of petroleum-based fabric known as "tights" (and black pleather Mary Janes)
--One Garanimals girls' "power suit"--this was a red plaid polyester dress and jacket combo that made me look like a 5 year-old mortgage broker as was worn with burnt orange suede "Earth Shoes" that made me feel I would topple over backward at any moment and stained my white anklets Cheeto color
Okay, I guess the Danksins aren't so bad.