Last night, I neatly laid out my son’s shirt that I had chosen for picture day. It is soft and trendy, a handsome olive green with buttons. He is an especially easy-going child and has never before not followed my “suggestion” of clothing when it mattered to me.
This morning, my son came down for breakfast completely ready for school in camo shorts and a black Lego t-shirt. His hair was combed and his socks were on; as far as he was concerned, he was ready.
I smiled and asked, “Where’s the shirt I laid out for you?”
My son looked at me with sad baby blues, “I don’t like that shirt, Mom.”
“Well, it’s picture day and that’s what I want you to wear.” As the words came out of my mouth, I knew it was unconvincingly feeble.
And then, my superego in the human form of my middle child says, “A Lego shirt shows his personality.”
I sighed and sipped my coffee, letting go of any conviction to fight this battle. Afterall, I suppose the purpose of a school photo is to capture the essence of the child, not the parent.
That’s my son…Henry L (for Lego) Bross.