I Love T-Shirts

I love T-shirts. I always have and I always will. The only thing that I have ever loved enough to make me part with some of my shirts is Arica. When she moved in and I had to clear drawer space the T-shirts actually lost a head to head battle. We found T-shirts from as far back as 1992, and crazily I didn't want to get rid of them. Over the past 5 years I have slowly thrown out of all the shirts left from high school basketball, 3 on 3 tournaments, and trips to the podunk county fair.

Now I have a different kind of T-shirt collection, the vintage T-shirt. If you have been into any clothing store in the past few years you know that these things are popular. I have some old band shirts like The Who and Johnny Cash. I have the Dukes of Hazzard and Mario Brothers. I have others too. If I was made of money I would buy a T-shirt a day until the rapture.

This behavior is nothing new. I have been wearing what I thought were unique T-shirts for 15 years. I like to claim that I was way ahead of my time fashion wise. Arica likes to claim that I was just a bum. She is probably right.

I grumble a lot when we buy clothes for the little man. As a tight wad it bothers me to buy clothes for someone who grows so fast. It would be fine with me if he just wore diapers until he stopped growing. That type of thinking is just another example of why God made mothers.

One time when I am first in line to buy Braden new clothes is when we find new T-shirts. I hope by buying him an inordinate amount of cool T-shirts that I will instill in Braden the same love for this cotton clothing staple that I have.

Braden has rock shirts including The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and AC/DC. He has at least two Star Wars Shirts. He has Super Man and Batman. He has a nice vintage Oscar the Grouch one too. In fact the only way that I could ever list all his cool retro shirts is to rummage through his drawer. Since I am at work now the drawers are safe from my "rearranging".

So here is today's ironic moment. Right now I am being paid to write about the T-shirts that I hope to buy for my son with the money I am making while writing.

Frankenstein Wins

In the movie Big Daddy Adam Sandler's character, Sonny, raises someone else's child due to bizarre circumstances.  Sonny, being the child raising genius that he is, decides to let the kid do whatever he wants. Sonny wouldn't tell him what to do. The kid, Julian, would make his own decisions.

Julian's first order of business is to rename himself Frankenstein. After that he decides to eat ketchup packets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  He also chooses not to take baths and becomes the stinky kid at school.

Sonny also gives Julian the right to choose his wardrobe every day. He can wear whatever he wants. Normal attire includes shorts, boots, a cape, and earmuffs or maybe some other clothing fashioned as a head band.

Today I experienced a slice of this self dressing fun.  After I dressed Braden this morning he started reaching for the shoes he wanted. The kid has an absolute love of shoes. He wants to wear shoes all the time. He will go pick them out and bring them too you. It is not uncommon in our home to see Braden wearing only a diaper and two mismatched shoes. Before today his shoe fun only happened at home.

This morning I tried to deny Braden's shoe dreams.  He was none too pleased.  We over slept and let's just say Braden is not a morning person. So in his just awakened state he was not going to give up easily. The shoes were important.

Arica wisely suggested I just give him the shoes he wanted, and she would take the other shoes to school with them.

And this is the story of how Braden got to wear big red Elmo house shoes to school today.

Star Wars Meets Camouflage

There are a great many benefits to being a baby.  Braden is not really a baby, but I am not sure what to call him. I am not much on the term Toddler. I just want to call him a little boy I guess.  We'll just say that there are quite a few benefits to being 17 months old.

There is the free butt wiping. The dressing. The bathing. The feeding. There are no jobs, bills, or responsibilities in general.  Being Braden's age is a free ticket to run around in your underwear acting wild only to be told how adorable you are.

While I was getting Braden ready for school this morning I noticed another benefit he has over me.  I was dressing him in a pair of dark camouflage shorts with a black Return of the Jedi T-Shirt featuring Yoda's big green head.  That is when I noticed that my son can quite easily pull off the wardrobe marriage of redneck and sci-fi geek. How awesome is that?

The feat is even more impressive to his Dad because my greatest redneck weakness is camo. I have a camo Cardinals hat, a Razorback shirt with some camo, and a lot of regular hunting camouflage shirts, coats, and pants.  I even have a camouflage tackle box and once owned a camo Razorback beer koozie that I have since lost.  It is really a wonder that anyone can keep up with a beer koozie anyway.

On top of that my biggest sci-fi love is Star Wars. I think I have mentioned here before that I don't go to conventions or dress like characters, but I do like the movies. Obviously the original three are the best, and Yoda is an all time great.

Unfortunately as a grown man with a somewhat professional career I am unable to pull off the blending of these two great things.  If I wore camo shorts with a Yoda shirt I would no doubt be labeled a stoner or at the very least a slacker.

Braden, however, can wear that exact outfit and be the cutest kid in the room.  I am jealous of that power over wardrobe choices that children have.  Braden could wear a cape or a giant fish hat. It wouldn't matter. He would look great. For that matter he could wear anything he wanted.

If I had the power to wear anything I wanted I think I would chose camo shorts and a Yoda shirt just like my little man.

I Am Not a Pretty Boy

Once upon a time a long time ago Arica and I were dating. Of course this was before our marriage and long before we added Braden to our numbers. During courtship there are many conversations and questions posed that help you understand your prospective mate better. It may seem like a job interview in the early going. Each person is trying to determine if the other has the skills and characteristics necessary to meet their needs.

This post, however, is about something that Arica helped me learn about myself. I am not talking about any deep self revelations. Those of you who know me or follow this blog regularly know that I am not one to talk about those things. I am not here to do a Daily Affirmation although someone might need to step in for Stewart Smalley since he has embarked on a political career.

I am reminiscing about the first time Arica called me a pretty boy. I was offended. I thought that since my normal attire was T-shirt, shorts, flip flops, and a dirty hat that I couldn't be a pretty boy. After that discussion I started to notice my grooming habits a little more. There were quite a few starched and pressed button up dress shirts hanging in my closet. Those shirts were my go to items for nice attire. My hair had to be just right before I would leave the house. I spent a little more time choosing what I might wear on a particular night than a man probably should. The kicker was the fact that I actually liked wearing a suit and tie every once in a while. Finally I came to the realization that I had to be perfect when I went out. I was a pretty boy.

This topic crossed my mind as I was looking at our pictures from Easter Sunday. Braden will have plenty of time to determine his own personal style. He can determine how important little things like ironing, shaving, and hair style are on his own, but for now, as you can see, he is definitely a pretty boy in training.