This morning as I made breakfast. . .hurrying about a Friday morning. . .dreaming of the weekend, and finding what I might put in Jack's lunchbox. . . I hear that little voice at the top of the stairs, mama. . .
He asks if he can wear something different to school. Sure, wear what you like.
And again, the voice two minutes later. . . mama. . . I want to wear something handsome.
My interest piqued, I join him upstairs. Pulling out some long sleeve dress shirts, and walking to the drawer for some long sleeve polo shirts. . . No, I know what I want to wear. I want to wear a tie.
So we go on a frantic tie hunt. Not in the bottom drawer with socks and such. Not on the closet shelves. Not in the drawer under the bed. Back to the bottom dresser drawer. Nope, still not there. Hmmm.... And in the little toy drawers next to the dresser. . .in the little dress upish, hats and such box, there it is. The Buzz Lightyear tie. Along with the sweet Easter tie from two Easters ago (and no shirt to really match it. . .this was the little tie he wore when he was pretending to be a police officer for a while. . . a handsome police officer, I suppose). . .
And he dresses, smiling.
Why the tie?
I don't want to tell you.
But you can tell me anything.
But it feels funny.. . .. . ...
You want to look nice for Tia? (the little girl he begged and pleaded to call on the telephone last night. . .and the Mama in me just wasn't ready for that yet).
He chatted happily during his quick breakfast (the tie hunt ate up most of the morning). Telling me how handsome the tie made him. And that he would be even more handsome with a lightsaber (of course). And that all of the bad guys would just fall over from his handsomeness.
I never realized how much being handsome did for a guy.