A couple weeks ago, a certain little man was complaining one morning that he gets hot in P.E. Let's be real here. P.E.'s a mere 30 to 45 minutes, so it's a small percentage of his day. He didn't want to get dressed and he was griping about all of the choices. My rebuttal went something like this, "Listen, it's cold here. Really cold. You can't just go wearing short sleeves and holey pants when it's 20 degrees out. So, I'm sorry, it's long sleeves and a good pair of jeans. Pick something out." I walked off and left him to select a suitable outfit. A bit later he came waltzing into the kitchen. His mood was better, he was dressed appropriately and the morning continued as it normally does.
What I did notice was that he was wearing a fleece jacket and I did question it and thought oh, heavens to Betsy, he's getting the virus that Miss K had just gotten over. He said he was fine and when I felt his forehead, he seemed normal. Sometimes he's cold in the morning, so it wasn't anything to worry about. He later left, putting a thicker winter coat over top and I thought it was a bit strange again but, if he really was sick, the school would call.
The day went by and when he arrived home, I followed him to his room, all the while asking questions about his day and offering him a choice of snacks. He took off his jacket and immediately, I noticed something was wrong with this nice new shirt he was sporting. (I had bought this - tag still on - at a thrift shop for little of nothing and it was one of those really soft long-sleeved tees, so it was a prized buy in my eyes.) Upon second glance, the sleeves were missing. Anger and frustration shot through my veins and I started to get upset with him, asking why he'd done this and telling him we can't just go hacking up all of our clothes!
He explained again that he gets hot in P.E. and I told him that was not a good excuse. I had to walk away, I was gonna lose it for sure! I went to the kitchen and did some dishes. I had to vent. So, I texted friends and family to share this little story that was eating me up. I explained how mortified I was, how the shirt looked like a little redneck beer belly shirt. I explained I wasn't racist or a hater but the sleeves weren't even short sleeves, they were shorter, almost like a tank top but not so much. It was complete with a race car on the front. My brother called him Joe Dirt, another friend asked if it was Larry the Cable Guy style. Yep, it was. Someone said tell him to grow a pony tail and get a tattoo that says "MOM", chicks dig it! Someone who'd been home with a child suffering with a stomach virus said she'd sadly been dealing with puke and that story just made her day.
After reading their comments, I quickly got over my fit of rage. It was slightly comical. I took a couple of pictures to which he was not happy about but, that's a small price to pay. It's a memory and a story that won't soon be forgotten.