Motherhood & Shopping

Most people think that shopping with a teen age girl tries the patience of any parent. Even though I haven't had that experience, shopping with a boy distinguishes the hardy and patient parent. Boys likes shouldn't be taken for granted.We can spend a solid hour looking for the one and only hoodie Excuse me I called it a hoodie because it has a hood. I have been chastised repeatedly for calling clothes by the wrong name. To me it may be a sweatshirt, a zip up hoodie, a pull over, a hoodie, or a jacket. I am wrong. He calls a sweatshirt a sweater and I'm not sure what he calls a sweater. A hoodie really isn't a word used, since in his terminology those are sweatshirts. Who would have known that we could misunderstand one another over something so simple.

In Indianapolis I wanted him to have a "trophy" to take home from the experience. Since he had been

wanting a light weight "sweatshirt" (his term) "hoodie" (my term) previously to our trip, I thought that Dick's Sporting Goods would be a good shopping trip. Rest assured I did not go into this venture thinking that it would be quick and easy. I knew from many previous shopping trips (one day I will write about trying to find a coat, for now let's just say that I am not over the experience) that this one would be no different.

Our routine goes something like this. I follow him around for about the first 10 minutes trying not to make any comments or suggestions. My only goal is to get him in the right price range. This trip it was $55. I then wander off to the women's section which makes me feel like a poor cow. I try to imagine myself paying $70 for Spandex that will squeeze my fat into bulges and bubbles reducing me to a self-defacing mess. After about 20 minutes of that glorious experience, I go in search of my husband to check up on the sports equipment he thinks we need around the house. This year it ended up being a new score keeping book for the recreational department team that he will coach. Then we head off in search of our son, hoping that he has narrowed his choices down to two or three.

Luckily he had found some that he liked within the price range. Of course he found a few out of the price range and had to point those out too. At this point I trudge behind him to look at all of his finds, checking price tags and saying giving the thumbs up or down, looking for correct sizes. Making him try on the size adult small because that is all they have in that particular hoodie and declaring the arms too short. Moving on to another style and digging for the correct color and size because he just doesn't want a blue one because he has suddenly converted to only wearing red. Finding all of that he then has to try it on, look in a mirror, and decide what he would wear it with. Would it look good with black shorts, khaki pants or shorts, it really wouldn't look good with grey. I am baffled at this juncture. When did boys care so much about colors and outfits? I try not to say anything. I try to wait for him to find the perfect one. Since his buddy was along on this trip I encourage him to give his opinion. It didn't help. I was shocked. It was really all about how my son saw himself and how the clothes reflected that image. Okay, so I have at least learned that he is sure of his own identity and not a follower. I am proud of that.

He did find the perfect hoodie. It's black with grey shoulders and will look very good with his khakis.