For example, last spring I bought him a suit. He tried it on, and the coat was obviously too long -- I couldn't see his hands at all. "Perfect!" I proclaimed, figuring I'd get at least a couple months out of it.
By the time he put it on again at Christmas, I could definitely see his hands -- and his wrists, and his cuffs, and about halfway up to his elbow. Mark didn't want to wear the suit, but it was Christmas Eve, and he didn't have a choice. The only one happy about the too-small suit was Grant, who realized he was about to get a new suit from his favorite cousin Marky.
And so last week, it was time for a new suit. We're going on a cruise to Alaska this summer, and Mark needs some fancy duds. (And even some not-so-fancy duds -- 90% of his wardrobe are school uniforms.)
I was holding out to buy his suit closer to our actual departure date, but because of Easter, the stores had dressy kid's clothes on sale, and you know I can't pass up a bargain. So I purchased his next suit, a snazzy pinstriped black suit, and some pastel-colored shirts and ties to go with it. (The pinstripes were a compromise. Mark really really really wanted a white suit -- this one in particular, called the Steve Harvey Gangster Pinstripe Suit. He begged all he could, but I would not relent.)
I handed over the new suit and a pale green shirt, and asked Mark to try them on. He came back with the suit buttoned up, and said, "I tried it on with a different shirt." He then unbuttoned his coat, and flashed his white and blue Dodgers jersey.
"Nice shirt," I told him. "But doesn't quite go with the suit." I sent him back to the room, grumbling, to change it. I reminded him that if it was an Angels jersey, he could've worn it. (We have a big Angels - Dodgers rivalry in our house.)
He came back wearing a new shirt and clip-on tie, and he looked great!
Mark loved his new black suit. It was big (think David Byrne from Talking Heads), which made me happy -- we still have 2 1/2 months before the cruise, and barring any freakish growing spurts, I think it'll still fit him then. And it had pinstripes, which made Mark happy, even if the color wasn't his first choice.
"You look good, buddy," I told him, adjusting his collar. "Now that's how you should dress!" He smiled and strutted around the room proudly.
"I'm gonna wear suits like this when I grow up," he told me, and I nodded.
"You dress like that and you'll get a good job when you grow up," I told him.
He shot back, "Well, I guess you don't have a good job, then." I looked at him blankly, and he said, "Well, you just wear jeans to work. So you must not have a very good job."
And thus ended the fashion show.
"Don't worry about my job, buster," I told him. "Worry about your manners instead!"
He went to change out of his suit, and suddenly I thought maybe the white suit was more appropriate instead for my little gangster. If he gets any mouthier, I may buy it for him, then take him for some professional portraits. Now those will be photos worth sharing when he's older!
