My Little Man

My husband & I frequently tease that our R is a little 40 year old trapped in a 6 year old body. So much of his affect is like my adult husband it is almost comical.

He speaks like a little man and loves to be my go to guy when Daddy is working. Most hilarious is how he dresses himself. He prefers khakis when it comes to pants--and not just when he is wearing a uniform. R hasn't worn blue jeans in almost 2 years. He also tends to hike his pants up a tad too high resulting in his belt buckle frequently resting about an inch higher than his naval.

Much like a working man, R is a big fan of his leather driving moccasins. Last weekend he was fully dressed out in his baseball uniform--purple wicking socks and all--but instead of cleats, he was wearing dress shoes. What a perfect representation of our R!

I couldn't resist giggling this morning when R came downstairs ready for school. He was wearing his school uniform--polo shirt tucked into his tailored khaki shorts with a belt and tall (midcalf high) white socks with those slip on driving mocs. I suggested he might want to rethink the shoe/sock combo.

"How about your tennis shoes?" I offered.
"No, I am going to wear this," R insisted.
"That looks a little strange, buddy," I prompted.
"It's ok. No one will see 'em unda da table at school, Mom."
"But, what about the playground?" I countered.
"It's ok, no one will see them there either. I wun weal fast, Mama."

And that was that.I felt so convicted that the very peer pressure I was using to convince him to dress as I preferred, was the pressure I would be working to protect him from very soon.

And he did a good job of standing up to it. :-)