The dog days of summer are slowly coming to an end, and the pale rider of school is approaching. And with it comes the ritual of back-to-school shopping.
Up to this point, I’ve always gone out on my own and bought all of Connor’s clothes. Once I get them home, he tries them on to see if they fit, and then I trudge back to the store to return or exchange the things that he didn’t like or didn’t fit well. Sure, it’s a colossal pain in the ass, but not more so than trying to get a child with severe ADHD to wander through clothing stores and spend countless angst-ridden minutes in dressing rooms.
But this year, THIS year, I decided was the year of trying new things!
After all, he is 7 years-old now, and going into the second grade. This shall be the year we attempt clothes shopping together!! And although we have two months before it’s cool enough for long pants, I decided to take advantage of some of the sales and take Connor clothes shopping this past weekend.
We survived. Barely.
I grabbed a couple pairs of jeans and told Connor, who was busy wandering through clothing racks, to come with me.
Connor: “Where are we going?”
Me: “To try on clothes.”
Connor: “I’m too embarrassed to try on clothes around these people.”
Me: “No, no. They have dressing rooms where you try on the clothes.”
As we went into the dressing room area, Connor stopped to admire the large mirror.
“Ohhhhhh, three mirrors altogether!!!”
Inside the dressing room, I handed him the first pair of jeans. He looked over and asked, “what’s that thing?”
Me: “It’s a shelf.”
Connor: “For what?”
Me: “For stuff. Like my purse. It’s a shelf for my purse.”
Good god, it’s like the boy was raised by wolves.
Connor: “What’s this?”
Me: “It’s a seat, so you can sit when you try on pants.”
B O I N G!
Connor: “Oh, I don’t need a seat to try on pants.”
B O I N G!!!
Me: “I don’t care whether you NEED the seat or not, it’s still not a trampoline, so stop jumping off it!”
Connor: “What could happen?”
Me: “You could get hurt or I could lose my mind and start screaming like a lunatic!”
Connor: “Oh, sorry, I was already about to jump when you said not to.”
Me: “Just try on the damn pants!”
Usually I always get the loose-fitting jeans, but this time I must have grabbed one pair of “slim fit”, because that’s what he tried on. They were snug, but not too tight. Still, I usually choose comfort over style since he’s such an active child.
Me: “Those are a little snug, let’s try on the loose-fit jeans.”
Connor: “I like these jeans, I want to buy them.”
Me: “They’re not as loose as the others, can you bend over?”
He immediately started contorting in various yoga-type poses, thus proving his ability to move in the pants.
Connor: “Pleeeeeease, I really want these pants.”
Me: “Why do you like these pants so much?”
Connor: “Because they’re really cool, and they have a belt, and everyone will think I look sooooo good in them. And they’ll want to marry me.”
I had no idea that these slim-fitting pants held so much sway over girls. None. Or maybe it was the belt because, after all, this was our first foray into belt land. Prior to this point, I could never have trusted Connor with a belt, knowing full well it would be removed and used as some sort of jump rope or weapon as soon as my car pulled out of the school parking lot. I’m still not convinced that won’t happen, but we will at least give it a try.
Me: “Are you sure you’ll be comfortable in these jeans?”
Connor: “Oh YES! Can I wear them home?”
Me: “No, I have to pay for them and it’s way too hot. Also, I don’t want you meeting any future marriage partners here in Kohl’s.”
Somehow we made it out of that dressing room alive, twenty minutes later. That might not sound so bad, but that’s twenty minutes for TWO PAIRS OF PANTS!
Any further school clothes shopping will be done by me. Solo. Yeah, I know what I said, but I’m not going again with Connor this year. Once was enough. We’re baby-stepping our way to maturity…in slim-fit, belted, mating ritual marriage jeans, apparently.