Super Bowl Players Apparently Do Not Wear Lavender

Before we go any further tonight, I have to ask your fashion opinion.

Because goodness knows!  In 1988, I could have given you a rundown on what was trendy and what wasn’t, and why we should peg the legs of our acid washed jeans, and why leather jackets with fringe on the sleeves were a glorious thing when you shook your arms high at a high school football game.  But now… As the mother of two, who mostly stays at home, my fashion style has become pajama bottoms and an unwashed ponytail.  I figure, Why get all dressed up, when I’m just going to crawl back into that unmade bed as soon as Thing 2 falls asleep this evening?  And, If I have to go to Walmart, nobody will even care what I look like, because… well… IT’S WALMART.

Sometimes it’s all I can do to get a single load of laundry done and boil the macaroni noodles.  Deciding if I want to wear a yellow-striped cardigan sweater with the navy pants is more than I am emotionally equipped to handle at 5:30 in the morning.

I did wear a sassy scarf to church today, though, because I thought it would accent my I FINALLY WASHED MY HAIR hairdo.

Anyway.

A while back, Ralph Lauren was having a bit of a sale on children’s clothes, which is the only way I can afford to buy them, what with me staying mostly at home.  We’re not the family who owns a yacht and takes our family Christmas photo on a ski trip in Switzerland.  We’re the type of family who eats Hamburger Helper with a side of bright-orange Cheetos.

During this sale, I bought a purple shirt for Thing 2, because it rocked my visual senses when I saw it online.  I thought, “There!  That is the shirt that screams out PRIVATE MONTESSORI PRESCHOOL, when really we’re just at home watching Baby Einstein videos on You Tube and learning to count the old fashioned way.”

(We’re terribly fancy with our education around here.  Yes, ma’am.)

So I ordered that PURPLE shirt, straight out from under the BOYS, SIZES 2 TO 7 heading.

I put the shirt on Thing 2 for the first time this morning, because if I was going to look smart and classy in my sassy scarf, then I wanted my boys to compliment me.  We were all about sparkling with great fashion today before the Lord.

This, people, is the shirt:

IMG_1581 IMG_1582 IMG_1591 IMG_1598Hubs’ response to seeing the toddler in his purple, Ralph Lauren polo this morning went exactly like this:

“What the heck is he wearing?!  Why is my boy in a LAVENDER SHIRT??  We don’t wear lavender!”

And then Hubs went on to state how he really felt, regarding lavender for the genders, and how this shirt should have come adorned with pink lace around the collar, and couldn’t we give it to Cousin H, what with her being a girl who wears the same size that Thing 2 does?  Hubs insisted that someone would tape a note to Thing 2’s back in the church nursery this morning that said, “Kick me; I wear lavender.”

So the real question tonight is this:

IS THIS SHIRT A KEEPER?  OR SHOULD IT BE HANDED OVER TO LITTLE COUSIN H, WHO, BEING A GIRL, COULD PULL THIS COLOR OFF BETTER THAN A BOY WHO CLIMBS THE REFRIGERATOR AND EATS DIRT AND SMALL ROCKS?

Because?  At our house?  Well, the vote is split 50/50 between the adults.  If underage voters are allowed to have a say, then Hubs’ platform gains an extra one, because the boy assured me he’d never be caught dead in LAVENDER at school.  We tried to get Thing 2 to put his opinion down on a ballot this morning, but all he said was, “Tractor!”

Anyway.

We took Thing 2 sledding over the weekend, and let’s just say that he liked it.

He liked it so much, in fact, that there was a nuclear meltdown of epic proportions when it was time to put the sleds into the back of the Suburban and head for home.  His screams of unhappiness with the entire TIME TO LEAVE decision could have shattered crystal eight miles away from us. Dogs in the surrounding area howled right along with him.

Thing 2 has added ACCOMPLISHED SLEDDER to his resume.

IMG_1547 IMG_1538 IMG_1545 IMG_1537 IMG_1540We also learned that one of the benefits of spacing your boys out by eleven-and-a-half years is that the bigger one can pull the smaller one up the hill four hundred and twelve times, while you simply move your finger on the camera’s button and snap pictures.

(My trigger finger is in excellent shape, thank you.)

IMG_1554 IMG_1559 IMG_1558 IMG_1567 IMG_1572 IMG_1569 IMG_1574 IMG_1578We soon realized that Thing 2 is NOT AFRAID OF THE BIG HILL.  Thing 2 doesn’t mind sitting all alone in his red sled, having a push from the top of the mountain, and just jetting off into the sunset at break-his-neck speeds by himself.  The West wasn’t won by weak-kneed men, and hills of snow weren’t conquered by boys who were afraid to wear lavender.

However, his mama decided that pursuing his love for independent speed could possibly result in a trip to the emergency room, where we would introduce ourselves to the orthopedic doctor on duty.  So, his much bigger Bubbie ran along beside him on the downward trips, even though our toddler kept saying, “I’ve got this, people!”

After an afternoon spent sledding with the boys, I crawled into my bed with a book at exactly 7:46 PM.  I felt like I had just won the lottery, I was so happy about that.  My inner nerd felt loved and pampered.

And then…

what about those Broncos?

Hubs spent all of yesterday slowly smoking two entire racks of ribs in his Traeger in preparation for today’s big football game.  He mixed and stirred marinades; he ran to the grocery store… not once… but TWO ENTIRE TIMES for secret ingredients.  He babysat those ribs on his grill like they were the crown jewels on display at an unguarded museum.

And then today, Hubs ended up with a migraine just as the Denver Broncos were taking the field for the first time.  The differences between boys and girls not only extend to I DON’T MIND WHIPPING DOWN THIS HILL ALONE AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT; they also extend to headaches of horrid proportions.  When I have a migraine, I must go to bed posthaste, or there will be vomit on the floor that I am incapable of cleaning up.  When Hubs has a migraine, he will cowboy-up, eat an entire rack of ribs, exclaim that his head is going to explode and splatter his big brain everywhere, and then he will lay on the sofa like a sloth on an anesthetic drip, quietly cheering his football team to a win.

This is how Thing 2 watched the football game this afternoon:

IMG_1602So yes.  Hubs’ team was polite enough to win for him today.

Just don’t expect to see Thing 2 wearing LAVENDER on Super Bowl Sunday.  I’ve been instructed that the shirt needs to be given away to a family with little girls, regardless of the fact that I LOVE THAT SHIRT, and that Thing 2 will need to have his Denver Broncos jersey CLEAN on that Sunday.

Because THE BRONCOS ARE GOING TO THE SUPER BOWL, Y’ALL!  If Hubs had a cowbell, he’d be ringing it right now.

(Just very quietly so he didn’t aggravate his migraine.)

And that, people, was pretty much our weekend.

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