Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Mr. Fabulous Strikes Again


Often we play a game at dinner where we ask one another to answer questions. Normal questions would be things like "what was the best part of your day" or "if you could be any animal what would you be and why."

Last night Mr. Fabulous, the Supermodel, and I got dressed up and took him to a fancy dinner for his birthday and entrance into teenagerdom. It was sushi because he is Mr. Fabulous. Anyway, at some point in the evening I asked the group, "if you could be any Disney character who would it be?" 

Without hesitation, he blurts out: GASTON!

No one is surprised. He is braggadocios, loud, adored by everyone in his village. Women swoon and men sing songs about him. Mr. Fabulous broke out into song. We cracked up. I think he missed the misogynistic, manipulative, and maniacal portions of his character traits. Either way, Gaston it is. 



Pants Shopping

As a young man, the most fear inducing realization came when you saw that your pants were once again getting too small. This meant that you would have to go with your mother pants shopping. I must say from the outset that my mother was always very patient with me but I must grouse a bit.

I remember the robing and disrobing. The pain of trying to get jeans on and off and on and off. This may have been what led to the jeans moratorium I had for 5 or 6 years. Thats right, I didn't wear jeans. They made me feel like I should be riding a horse. So I worked around it and dressed preppier than I do now (and that is saying something). Also, growing quickly only exacerbates things. The worst part of trying on pants was that your opinion was only a portion of the decision making process.

After ever pair of pants is put on, you must walk out into public and have your mother examine the pants. There is a turn and a pull on the waist band to make sure there is room to grow. Finally there is the dreaded 'turn around and pull up your shirt so I can see how they fit.' Mortified. People can see you. You try to look anywhere but at people. There is lots of sighing and fit pitching. Fifteen pairs and an eternity of trying to be invisible later, you leaving taking whatever you can to avoid having to go to another store.
please don't make me try on anymore
I am a cool parent. I will make this better than any parent in the history of pants shopping. Paradigms will be shifted. The status quo will be ousted.
could be worse
AARP, eldest of the clan, and I set out to acquire bluejeans. The child has grown considerably since last winter and his pants no longer keep his ankles warm.

How he wakes up every morning. Arms and Legs everywhere
We came home from school, he used the restroom, he grabbed his brothers skateboard and we were off. I was out of gas so, first we stop for gas and snacks. Then the bank. Then the skateboard shop to buy wheels for his brother for his birthday. This has already taken longer than cool parent would make it. I redouble my efforts and let him buy stickers to plaster things in his room with and we take off.

Insert traffic and contentious phone call later and we finally get to The Sears and Roebuck Co. and go inside. AARP needs to potty again. I wait five minutes, ten minutes and then saw him riding up the escalator. The quizzical look I gave him signaled him to give the the one minute signal in return. The first 10 minutes were used building up courage to ask someone where it was.

Lets Do This!
Sometime later, we are in the mens section trying on the smallest jeans we could find. No good. There was coming out and showing but I did let him pull on them himself. I didn't even inspect the rear of the jeans for fit. They were enormous and he was swimming in them. So, we are off to the boys section. It didn't help that next to the jeans were the footy Thomas the Tank Engine jammies. He didn't appreciate the suggestion that maybe we should try those on. I have now mortified him by asking him to try on pants in the little boys section. I am doing okay mostly and can save this.
Who wouldn't want to be the conductor?
This brings us to his particular and evolving sense of personal style. In four grade, we needed skinny jeans. Fifth no skinny jeans. Sixth nearly skinny. Seventh and eighth required non skinny, regular jeans. I merely try to keep up and not question. I may mention something about trying to wear your sisters pants every once and while. Ninth grade you ask? Skinny and not blue. the not blue threw me. We ended up with grey and black. I have never owned black jeans and don't know how I feel about it. They aren't white so, there is that. Also, no elastic which is surprising for someone with the pseudonym AARP.
please don't let this be your sense of style.


Points in the good dad column:
go on a Tuesday so store is deserted to reduce witnesses +10
No shirt pulling up +10
Allowing purchase of jeans that add to his sense of style +5

Points against:
Went with him at all -5
Inspected waist size and may have tugged on a pair or two -10
Vocal in complaints about price and talked about when I was a kid... -5

Tallying up the points, I came out ahead and there was no complaining on his part and we are still on speaking terms. Hopefully I have changed pants shopping forever. I doubt it. Mr. Fabulous is next and has enough junk in his trunk to require the shirt pull up. I may let his mother take him. No reason tarnishing my 1-0 record.