They were bright, comfy, and kept my child warm. They were no mere utilitarian garments; they were fashion statements. They offered shelter from the wind, and on days when he needed protection from the cold, or from a yelling mother, a place he could zip up and hide in. They served him well. And now, they are gone.
I'm talking about Mark's sweatshirts. I've written before about his propensity for losing things, especially clothes. But these sweatshirts...the rate at which he loses these is baffling. It's mind-numbing. These sweatshirts are a particular albatross around my neck.
It all started in kindergarten, shortly after I got Mark. I loaded him up with school uniforms, including inexpensive blue sweatshirts. And although the kid returned home from school each day, his sweatshirts did not.
It's frustrating, especially because Mark refuses to wear long sleeve shirts, which means he's cold a lot. I used to worry about him being cold, but then one day, I had an epiphany--if he really was that cold, he'd wear a frickin' sweatshirt, instead of recklessly abandoning it on the playground.
So Mark being cold doesn't bother me any more--if he's cold, he's old enough to do something about it (callous, I know). But it bothers the school staff, who kindly ask if Mark has any warm outer garments at home, or gently suggest Mark might benefit from a jacket on such a cold day. To which I always respond, "I send him to school with a sweatshirt every day--it's his responsibility not to lose it between here and home." They think I'm mean, but I don't really care.
It got so bad that one wintry morning, as Mark headed off to school shivering yet again, I let him have it. I told him if he didn't come home with an armful of sweatshirts, he'd better not come home at all.
What I meant was an armful of his sweatshirts. But he took me literally and came home with an armful of blue sweatshirts--none of them his. He simply scooped up every blue sweatshirt in the lost and found bin.
They included all three kid's sizes and even an adult-sized medium. Whereas I'd only bought him solid pullovers, he brought home an assortment of plain zip-ups, and pullovers and zip-ups with the school logo. These most certainly were not his sweatshirts, but at that point, I didn't care. I figured the other school kids were out there wearing Mark's lost sweatshirts. I looked at it more as a trade--an exchange--than an outright theft.
But now even those sweatshirts are gone. In a weak moment, I let Mark talk me into buying him some Old Navy hoodies; a lime green one that looked like a pigeon pooped on it; a black one with a basketball outline on it and a brown one with an eagle. His Auntie Edra gave him a cool brown Tony Hawk sweatshirt, which he recently tried leaving in a restaurant (we rescued it, only to have him lose it again last week). You guessed it, they are all gone, gone, gone as well. (Gotta admit--I wasn't sad to see that ugly green one go...)
And so begins a new era. Tomorrow morning, at 8:20 a.m., we will leave the house for school, and Mark will return to wearing an uncool, inexpensive blue pullover sweatshirt. He will not only balk at that, he will downright refuse, citing the fact that all the other kids are allowed to wear whatever they want. (To which I'll reply, "Yes, they wear what they want everyday because THEY BRING IT HOME!")
No matter where you are in the country, I'm sure you will hear him scream in indignation that he is soooo not wearing that stupid blue sweatshirt to school. And then he will go about purposefully "forgetting" or "losing" said blue sweatshirts at school.
Which will prompt the second wave of screaming, shortly before winter break, when Mark is told that thank God he gets such a generous weekly allowance, or else he wouldn't possibly be able to replace all those sweatshirts himself.
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