White Rebel

The day after Labor Day.  Pools close.  Summer fades to fall.  And, most importantly, all white clothing must be immediately discarded.

At some point, Noah has heard me speak of this ridiculous fashion faux pas.  Today he's silently protesting.

Last night he put out clothes on his chair.  I noticed everything was lacking color.  Questioning him with a raised eyebrow, he responds, "Mooooommmm.  I've wanted to do this my whole life! (insert puppy dog face and pausing for acceptance). 

My nod allowed, remembering the wild outfits Mom let me wear to express myself at this age.  Gloves in my hair, combat boots, and a long period of all black - homage to Poe and Robert Smith (lead singer of The Cure). 

Jumping in his closet with glee, "YES!  I'll be the only kid in school in white!"  He was rather giddy about the idea.  I snorted, shaking my head, warning him the concept may lost on the majority of his classmates. 

It didn't take much to wake him today.  Just a light and one sentence, "It's Project White Day!" sprung him from the bed.  Well, sorta.



Look close.  There's a kid in there somewhere...



I reminded him once again that the only people who would probably notice would be teachers, as I wondered what they might think about the crazy mom who allowed such nonsense.  He didn't care. 

And honestly, who could resist that smile.

EnJOY your day, sweet boy!