For years I thought the PCP’s affinity for his bee rain boots was an outlandish attraction unique to my free spirited and ever so strong willed first born. He faithfully donned the darned things day after day, rain or shine, for all sorts of goings-ons.
From trying out his new camp chair in the master bedroom…
…and attending the neighborhood Easter egg hunt…
…to watching Elmo on T.V….
… jumping on the bed (and evidently telling me a thing or two about something or another)…
…and attending my birthday dinner (with socks on his hands)…
… the bee boots were present, an integral part of the PCP’s wardrobe and the first article of clothing to garner his unyielding affection (we now have a superhero tee that he tries to wear daily.) Quickly learning that the bees were not worth fighting over, I begrudgingly supported sporting these kicks with everything from our PJs to our smocked Sunday best. And, after an eighteen month love affair, the inevitable finally occurred when his feet grew right on out of the beloved boots.
So we packed them away in a storage bin. Forgotten in the back of his extra closet for years, until the baby laid eye on them last week. And it was love at first sight. All over again.
The resurrected boots are once again the quintessential two-year-old footwear for everything from scootering …
… to baseball …
… and all occasions between. They just might represent the best twenty-five dollars I’ve ever spent.
And now, since I know this interesting outfit accompaniment is not unique to the PCP, I’m left asking myself if ALL little boys love their boots or if it’s an aberrant genetic quirk specific to my little’s DNA.
xoxo