Doin' His Thang

It snowed! True, it didn't stick for very long, but actual snowflakes came down from the heavens, leading my darling son to proclaim, "Where are my snow boots?"

"Right here!" I called out, as I retrieved them from the closet. His lovely blue size 5 snow boots that aren't, in any stretch of the imagination, going to fit his adorable size 7 feet. "Um, we'll get you new boots later!"

So yesterday, during a trip to Borders (after a failed trip to Barnes and Noble last weekend where they didn't have what I wanted but it didn't stop Doodles from proclaiming to his father, "We went to the bookstore to buy you a book for your birthday!" Way to be discreet, kid!), we popped into L.L. Bean right next door. "Let's get you snow boots!"

You all know where this is going, right? Remember that obnoxious kid who accused my darling, sensitive son of being a girl? I want to protect my son from kids like this. I really do. But I also want to support him in everything that he does, want him to be able to express himself and make him confident in his choices and his likes.

When I was eighteen--eighteen, for God's sakes!!!--pink was my favorite color. I loved pink. I wore pink skirts, pink hats (yes, pink hats! Remember, I'm old. It was the '80s), had a pink comforter, pink sheets. Hey, I had matching pink shirts and socks that I wore with my ripped Levi's when I was a cool film student (work with me on the cool, okay?).

So what's wrong with my three year old loving pink? Except that it makes me want to beat up all those punk hooligans who dare to mock him.

In L.L. Bean, he went straight for those pretty pink boots (and they don't even have the lovely pink color on the site--actually, it's called rose blossom, but pink will suffice). And can I blame him? I admit it, I still love pink. It's not my favorite--that would be green for anyone who cares--but it's right up there.

"Those are the ones you want?" I asked

"Yep!" he said.

"Do you like any of the others?"

"I like these."

"Fine with me!" I said cheerfully. The salesman--a relatively young guy--brings out the right size. "Hop up in that seat and try them on."

Doodles climbs up. An older man is trying on boots. He's joking around with Doodles and when the boots come out, he says, "That's a girl color! Why are you wearing a girl color?"

I scoff, "There's no such thing as a girl color."

Doodles happily echoes me. "There's no such thing as a girl color."

The older man turns to the salesman, "That's a girl color!"

The salesman, bless his heart, said, "All colors for all people."

I had Doodles walk around the store with the boots. Hard to tell if boots fit because they're a little stiff, so Doodles is wandering around the store like a little Frankenstein. When we've made a circuit, I ask another salesperson who is standing around, "Do these fit him? He's walking funny."

He bends down and tries to find Doodles's toes. "They're a little big but he won't be tripping on them or falling down or anything." He pauses, looks at the shoes, looks at Doodles, and then asks, "Didn't they have any of the other colors in back?" Sigh.

"These are the ones he wants."

So, I buy Doodles his shoes. I am embarrassed to admit I asked him one final time if he wanted to look at other colors, but he remained steadfast in his choice.

I've got to get to the gym more. I have a hunch I'm going to be beating up a few kids this winter.