Yet Another Way in Which I Have a Moment of Fail

Earlier this summer, I lucked out and managed to get all of Chaos's back-to-school clothes shopping done. I spent a day patiently helping him pick and sort through all the new clothing rack and I felt pleased that we were not caught by the last minute rush. When we got home, we showed Dad all his new clothes.

I decided at that time, however, to wait until the payday before school to get new shoes for him. His feet have a habit of growing and his father regaled me with horror stories of his own foot growth at the kindergarten age, thus, I felt safe in putting off what I considered to be the most crucial part of his back to school wardrobe.

So, last Friday, I sent him with his Dad to get new shoes. My husband, after a child-hood of extra large feet and ill-fitting shoes is fanatical about getting the "perfect" fit for all our kids. I figured this might be a good chance for them to have some male bonding time plus an opportunity for my husband to feel useful. (He always says that I run the house too efficiently.)

After they returned, I asked Chaos excitedly about his new shoes.

"Yep," he replied rather sardonically for a five-year old. (I rolled my eyes here. This is how my Husband replies to me and Chaos thinks it's funny to act like his Dad's worst traits.)
He opens the bag and pulls out...a pair of tennis shoes... in vivid fire truck red.

I stare at them. RED?!?

Everything my son picked out for school clothes happened to be aqua. Bright. Vivid. Aqua. Not a stitch of it was red or anything that remotely matched red.

I expressed this to his Dad later and he looked at me like I was weird.

"But sweetie... all his clothes are blue. Not red. His shoes don't match. They'll stand out a mile away!"

"He wanted red shoes." My husband was firm.

"But they don't match...." I begin again.

"Sweetheart," my husband said patiently while shaking his head, "he's a FIVE YEAR OLD BOY. He doesn't care if his shoes match his purse. At that age, he wants shoes that look FAST."

I closed my mouth at that logic. I think it over. My son always picks out some really nice outfits... then proceeds to wear them in combinations that defy logic. Yellows with blues with orange stripes often get paired with mismatched socks and camo.

Then it hit me... my husband's right. He's a boy. He doesn't have to worry about his shoes matching his figurative purse.

I have to worry about his shoes matching his purse, though... because I'm a girl.

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As a side note: I finally broke down and bought him a few new shirts... all of which match his shoes.