End of school year activities have commenced. Today was the annual “Crazy Clothes Day”, during which the children are encouraged to wear mismatched or other “crazy” clothes. 6yo stood in front of the mirror, gleefully surveying his ensemble: Madras shorts, striped shirt, mismatched patterned socks borrowed from me, all worn inside out and backward.
6yo: This is pretty crazy!
Me: It certainly is.
6yo: Look, you can see my pockets! And my tag is on the outside!
Me: I know! Crazy! Hey, do you want to have crazy hair, too, or do you want it combed?
6yo: (thinks carefully for a moment). Actually, I think this (gesturing at his outfit) is crazy enough. I think if my hair is crazy, too, everyone will get confused.
The sight of me appearing in anything short of Savile Row perfection will undoubtedly cause great consternation and dismay among my people. Combine this with unaccustomed tonsorial disarray, and the result will be nothing less than wailing and gnashing of teeth. There is a fine line, mother, between the whimsy of “Crazy Clothes Day” and flat-out irresponsibility, and that is a line that I will not cross.
(BTW--thank you to everyone for the kind words a few days ago. Thank you especially to Dr. MattyBoy for the experimental LOLZ therapy. Initial results indicate that it is highly efficacious, with no unwanted side effects!)