I know costumes.
Totally get camouflage.
I’ve even come to appreciate mixing all shades of green on the same day.
But this, this is a new category.
My skills as a parent are still quite puerile but already I’ve become completely calloused to the calling of parent with no pride who can take a child dressed in nearly anything, nearly anywhere.
I didn’t flinch when Mason picked for his big debut at the National Western Stock Show skinny jeans and an argyle sweater. Nor did I protest when he insisted on wearing Mario knit gloves for an entire day at school. And it is with great calm but decided confusion that I go out in public with him wearing a hat of his choice, mismatched long underwear pajamas, and cowboy boots.
Though I find it doesn’t ruffle my feathers, it does put me in a bit of a fashionista dilemma.
First , I consider: Which category is this? Is it sportswear? Costume? Underwear?
Next, I consider: Is it seasonable? Should it be worn from Labor Day on? Or only after Memorial Day?
Then, I consider: Is it hygienic? Does he smell? Are there stains, holes, or excretions from said ensemble?
Lastly, I consider: In all seriousness, should I bring my camera?
It is this last factor than I must pay particular attention to. The tremendous responsibility of supporting your child’s creativity or laziness or desire for comfort or whatever the hell it is that would encourage him to dress like this is facing it’s opposition – the responsibility of protecting your child from overt and malicious jeering, heckling, and perhaps photographic evidence posted on other’s facebook pages with the caption, “Someone please call protective services!”
Also, I suspect that when he is 35 he will be interested in the expression he found at 5. Even if he dresses like this crazy man (follow link) at 35.