Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Hitting the Walmart II

Such fun events ensue whenever we go to Walmart, and they always revolve around the toilet. Take yesterday, for example. Nick did not poop up his diaper on any quarter guzzling cartoon animal or pee through his generic Huggies in the curtain rod aisle because..... he was succesfully toilet training! Yes, the little man was undergarment free. That was, until we hit the underware aisle. Then like an oasis in the desert, we were presented with enough underware to clothe an African village. Would it be Spongebob? Spiderman? Scooby Doo? Tonka Trucks? Superman? "I want Dora underpants, Mommy." Me: "Oh. " (Pause, then adding) "I like Dora on tv. She's super cute, even though her head is a bit on the large side. Bigger than her mom's, even, which is odd. And her abuela sounds like she had one to many smokes in her day, but I digress... (picking up a random pair of blue and red pants) What about these fire engines? Look at all the hoses, full to the brim with pee pee... which is going to go in..." Nick: "The TOILET!!!!!" Me: "Great! So let's get those!" I began tossing it in the cart. A big toddler hand blocked my move. Nick: "I want Dora underware, Moooooomy." Me: "The pink ones? With the big flowers?" Nick: "No, not the pink ones." Me (to myself): "Thank God." Nick: "...The puuuurple ones with the butterflies."

Every mother has a moment where they must decide if they are going to block their child's creative choice and force them to adhere to gender expectations, or allow their son to be the only 2 year old in preschool wearing dancing baby girls and rainbows.

The downside: I gave into my liberal thinking and bought the friggin Dora's. For Godsake, he's two. He doesn't know male from female. If he becomes a six foot six transvestite, he can blame me. If he becomes a womanizer, he can blame the fact that I allowed him to wear girls all over his hoo-ha from the time he was two. If I said no and busted his spirit, he could blame me for that time in Walmart that I wouldn't buy him pastel panties. Either way, it's my fault.

The upside: Guess who slept all night long, without making one measley drip, in his girly panties?

My big boy, that's who!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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