We are a pants family.
What I mean by that is- we wear pants. Almost religiously, you know, daily.
Lately- I can’t say that.
Bubba is at war with his shorts.
It all started just a few weeks back. He was watching Mickey Mouse and I hear:
“Look Mama! My pants!”
(Oh Lord, please let this be G-rated)
He’s holding his PJ-pants in one hand, waving them like a checkered flag in a NASCAR race. Huge smile on his face.
“Uhh- Cool man,- Why did you take them off?” Honest Mommy Question, right?
“They too big.” And he went back to eating his cheerios.
“Go ahead and put them back on, buddy.”
“No, I okay.” Munch munch cheerios-on-the-carpet munch munch
Funny? Sure. Normal for a 2 year-old, I think. I didn’t give it another thought until…
The next morning:
“Mama! Mama! My pants again! Fall off!”
“Buddy, I’ve seen you wrangle those pants, they don’t just fall off.”
“They too big.” *runs away*
“No, no, nonono. *corners tiny human* We wear pants here. Put them back on dude.”
“I not put them on. No pants.”
No Pants. I didn’t know two words could strike fear into the heart of a grown woman. What if he insists on this no pants thing? What if he decides to continue this trend day after day? HOW are we going to go anywhere? What if he drops trou in the grocery store in front of the dairy products? We are going to be stuck in this house forever.
*Don’t show weakness, woman. We wear pants here* So after a brief wrestling match, the PJs were back on and all was right in the house.
A week later.
I’ve got a sweet gig working from home this summer. I’m in-between work responsibilities and Bubba asks for “drum sticks” for his play drum. “Uhh sure,” *glances at baby in the swing* that’s conducive to a sleeping baby. Luckily for all involved, we have decorative paper straws leftover from a birthday party that totally look like drumsticks. I hand them over and wait for the show to begin- and boy does it ever. He adjusts the drum, positions the sticks and stops. He then proceeds to remove the drum and the sticks and his pants. Replaces said drum and sticks and begins marching around the house.
Why the pants?
This continues through lunch and up until naptime when pants are once again insisted upon by Mommy and all is right again within the house.
Hopefully it’s “just a phase” but all I can think is.
“Boy, Where is your mother…?”