Last night, I could tell there was a near miss. M wanted to argue over pants (AGAIN!) Probably the hundredth time since August.
Here’s the story. In August, we bought him 6 pairs of blue jeans that fit. That he liked. That he tried on. He got even more pants (green, red, blue camo) in the middle of the school year. Green have disappeared completely. Blue camo ripped a button. In February, I bought him another pair of gray jeans (Hawk). They ripped in less than 2 weeks. I got him another pair in March, and they ripped in late April, same place. He couldn’t wear them to school (big fight). I gave him 2 pair I’d been saving for the day when they all were bad, because he was having a good week: camo and plain green. Plain green went missing. Camo are wearing out very quickly.
So, let’s count: plain green, camo, red, and 6 pairs of jeans left to be able to wear to school. Gray for skating only.
“I don’t have any pants. Where are my gray ones. I can wear those.”
“I promise. I’ve talked to the principal. He said…”
“Nope. No arguing, against the …”
“Stop interrupting me. You don’t know! The principal said…”
“I don’t care. Remember the dress code rules? Do you want me to rip them up so they’re completely unwearable?”
“What about the red ones? You love those.”
“They don’t fit!”
“They’re the same size as the others.”
“No they’re not! They don’t fit!”
“Put them on. I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to see so I know for the future.”
(They fit fine. They’re skinny jeans.)
“That’s the way they’re supposed to fit,” I say, hiking them up to where he’s supposed to be wearing them, still way below the waist.
“Ouch, that hurts!”
“Bullshit. That’s the way skinny jeans are supposed to fit. Just say ‘I don’t like this fit anymore’ and I’ll make sure they go away.”
“Well, what am I supposed to wear tomorrow?”
“One of the 6 other pairs of jeans you have.”
*starts digging through the junkpile that is his room*
“I don’t even know where they are!”
“They’re somewhere in that room that I’ve asked you several times to clean and that you haven’t put clean clothes away for 2 months. You’ll have to find them”
(T closes his door.)
M comes walking out and hands me 2 pair of jeans, unacceptable for school, and 2 pair that will do. So, we’re minus the blue camo, and a pair of normal jeans, and the red ones.
That leaves 4 pair of blue jeans, the green pair, and the camo pair. Still, 6 pair of school appropriate jeans. And a calm child.
“I want another pair of these camo ones. And the gray ones.” (which are starting to fall apart.)
“We’ll have to try to find some that will last longer. Finding these styles again might be hard.”
He closes the bathroom door, and I gather the rags. I made sure I said “Thank you for showing me which ones were bad and helping me get rid of them.”
Today, he wore shorts anyway.