This morning I was frantically digging through my three-year-old’s closet to find some clean socks. In the midst of the melee, my son came across his yellow-and-blue striped clip-on tie that he wore last Easter, and he announced that was wearing it to school that day. Although I was in a rush, I stopped and helped him with it, and he was very pleased with the effect. With his school uniform and that tie, he looked very dapper indeed. “Now you look you could come to the office with mommy and sit in a cubicle,” I told him, which he took as a compliment.
When I dropped him off at day care, he proudly showed his teacher his tie. Later in the day, when I tuned in to watch him on the school’s webcam, he still had it on. And I was surprised to see that he still had it on at 5:30 when I picked him up. I just happened to pick him up at the same time that his best friend Emily’s parents were picking her up, too. She was wearing a very ladylike shawl that day, and I complimented her on her fashion sense. Then they walked down the hall together, looking like a very fashion-forward couple, and they gave each other a big hug before they parted, right in front of room 101, their old room where they stayed were they were just babies.
It’s hard to believe that, not so many years from now, my son will be wearing a tie as a grown man. It will be here before I know it. But, for now, he’s only three years old. Curious and kind and mischievous and marvelous. Tonight, I watched him tear through the house and play on his “submarine” (our couch), and I picked up his tie from the floor, where it lay among a menagerie of army men and cars and Star Wars figures. He climbed on my back and I pulled him to me and kissed his cheek, so very thankful that he’s still my little boy.
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