As spring quickly turns into summer here in Texas, its past time to bring out the shorts. Try telling that to Ryan.
Its a battle, every single day, to convince him that the time for long sleeves and long pants is over. Its a miracle to see him in a short sleeved shirt and shorts. we long ago settled on the rule that he can wear either a long sleeve shirt OR jeans, but not both together. Long-sleeved shirts, if paired with shorts, is acceptable. Hence, if you look at the pictures from Mother's Day, Ryan is in jeans, and not the nice khaki shorts I wanted. I try to at least keep it seasonal (ie, his Christmas sweater was 'lost') but some days we just go with the flow.
One morning this week, I didn't have the strength to argue with him, so I simply let him go to school in long sleeves and jeans. He then went to Alex's soccer practice, and since they were short on players, the Coach (ahem, CARL!) let him play with the big boys. In his long pants and long shirt. He came home with the brightest red cheeks and covered in sweat.
So this morning, I'm getting ready to shower, and he announces its time for him to dress, and is it okay if picks a long sleeved shirt. Yes, as long as he wears shorts, too. He comes back a few minutes later, dressed in, big surprise, long corduroy pants to accompany his long sleeved shirt. "Ryan, you know you can't wear both ..." and he burst into tears.
"But, Mommy, I tried. I don't have any shorts to wear."
Silence. Long, guilty mommy silence. Reflect on the fact that I haven't finished laundry since our trip. That there may be some clean shorts, but perhaps the clean clothes haven't made their way out of the basket. Or out of the dryer.
Carl comes to the rescue, and offers to help him find some shorts (I am persona non grata at the moment, and not wanted for the shorts treasure hunt).
Alex gets off to school on the bus, and we fast forward thirty minutes. I'm doing my makeup, Ryan goes into my closet, and decides he is going to pick out my clothes. I still need to earn some Ryan brownie points, so I decide to amuse him and see what he comes up with. Its not bad - a long sleeved red and white shirt. And then he starts looking for bottoms for me. Since its Friday, its jeans day. And I hate letting a Friday go by without jeans, so I steer him towards my dresser.
He comes back with shorts. I explain to him that I need my blue jeans, not the khaki shorts. He goes back, and comes back with a pair of denim shorts. And I explain, again, that I need my long, blue jeans. And he promptly burst into tears, screaming how its not fair, I'm making him wear shorts, if I'm wearing a long sleeved shirt, then I have to wear shorts, too.
And I just don't know how to respond to this. I told him that my boss is mean and won't let me wear shorts, and that seemed to appease him (sorry, David - you're really a fabulous boss should you ever read my blog). But I couldn't help but agree with him -- its not fair. Its very undemocratic of me to establish one set of rules for them, and then not follow them, myself.
So all day, I've been wondering ... is Ryan that much of a fashionista that he truly wanted to pick out my clothes? Or was this all some sort of test of his, to see if I will follow the long-sleeve, shorts rule? Is a four year old even capable of thinking up such a devious plan? Because if it is, then I have to confess, I am revelling in his deviousness. Because he sure put one over on me. And only a genius could be that devious.