12 April 2007

renaissance man


renaissance man, originally uploaded by McBeth.

It takes a certain tenor of toddler to wear whatever the hell he'd like to wear, even if it means it's a skirt and all the grownups around him either swoon or freak OUT because oh gosh, could he be gay? Is he demonstrating effeminate tendencies what with those fag-toy barbies and the swishing swirling skirts?

Here's the deal right from the auntie's mouth, folks: For the record, I BOUGHT him that skirt and he likes it and I like that he likes it. SHUT. THE FARK. UP.

Seriously, right now, just stop.

What does it matter? He's a beautiful imaginative sweet well-mannered kid who calls me 'auntie' in a way that melts me on even my meanest days. People of certain religious convictions and people who have nothing better to worry about can go climb a tree. This boy is the fellow who isn't afraid to have emotions, play with "girl" toys, and play with me as though I was the neatest coolest most magnificent person ever in the history of the universe.

That matters. So leave it alone and let's just love him and all the other little boy children who prefer to dress and redress their barbie dolls to bang up smash ups.

1 comment:

Aspergers Anxiety and Me said...

Hey mcb,
Is this my first comment to your blog? I'm pretty sure it's my first comment to any blog period. But we can never be sure of what's come before now.

This caught my eye because S, when he was four, was very 'attached' to a length of faux fur. There was a cartoon character on TV that had a long tail, if his enemies cut it off (it regrew) he would temporarily lose all his power.

The tail went everywhere. We used a baby diaper pin, it would be carefully unattached from his jammies bottoms in the morning and attached to his pants. Unattached at school and stored in his backpack, and reattached when I picked him up. Then draped over the towel rack at bathtime and reattached once again to jammies.

He had no fear of ridicule, was oblivious to it when it happened, which was pretty regularly.

One day, as he played on the playground, sporting his fabulous tail...I overheard one Mom say to another: "Look at that S, can you believe that?" to which the other Mom nodded her head in agreement and said: "Well you know with that kid: Like Mother, Like Son."

I wished I had a tail of my own, I'd have sashayed right by them and waggled my arse in their faces while leading my son away.

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