Moms Know Best

My youngest son is 14.  He attended his first homecoming dance for high school last Thursday night.  He didn't bother telling me he had planned to attend until Thursday morning.




We discussed what he should wear.  And then we discussed what he insisted on wearing.  And then I set about ironing his clothes.  He refuses to wear a tie.  A coat is also out of the question.  He agrees to a button-down and khakis.  Great.  This should be interesting.

He discovers that he needs a belt.  A dress belt.  He doesn't have one.  Why?  Because he doesn't like to 'LOOK' dressed up, and he chooses all of his own clothes.  His clothes have to pass his inspection.  Casual or jock.  And even those categories have subcategories that need to pass his inspection.  I've given up buying clothes for him unless he is with me.

So we search and finally find a belt in his brother's closet, which by putting it on the very last notch barely works.  (He's skinny as a weed.)  We then discuss shoes.  He suggests his Nikes.  Huh?  To a dance?  Nah.  We search and search for a pair of dress shoes but find none that will fit him.  I then remind him that I've tried repeatedly to buy him a pair of dress shoes and he has refused to shop for them and has insisted he would not wear them if I purchased him a pair.  He has three different pairs of high-dollar sport shoes, football cleats, track cleats, and sandals.  The end.  That is his shoe collection.  He decided on his black Nikes for the dance.  This should be interesting.

He was tight-lipped after the dance with his remarks and feedback.  In a nutshell, "he had fun."

Yesterday, four days after the dance, he mentions to me that, "oh, by the way, he'd like to expand his Christmas list to add a belt, a pair of dress shoes, a nice dress shirt, and uh, maybe some nice men's cologne."

Oh, my son.  The pains of growing up.  Learn to trust your mother, would you?

Mom's know best.