Picking Your Battles

Before I had kids I thought it was really important that children don't eat sweets or watch TV and go to bed on time. And then I had kids. Sure, there are rules I didn't anticipate - table manners, respecting elders, gratitude - but I've loosened up on others, mainly those involving sweets, bedtime, TV and ... underwear.

You see, long ago, round about his third birthday, Jake realized he didn't like underwear. Whined about it, cried about it. For awhile we fought the battle. And then, like good parents do, we gave up. (I now know there are tactile disorders in which some kids actually find certain textures painful so while I know he doesn't have that disorder, there may be some legitimacy to his discomfort.)

Fast forward a few years and the kid never wears underwear, doesn't even own a pair. But last week, in preparation for Jake's end-of-year Spring recital, his teacher sent home costume requirements: All students must wear white underwear because the costumes are white. Since they didn't want to see little rocket ships and Barbies through the white costumes I can only assume they didn't want to see Jake's nethers either.

So I bought him underwear, little white briefs, which he hated. And then Friday morning he woke up sick. There is a part of me that thinks it had to do with his anxiety about wearing the underwear, but he did have a fever. So unless he is a yogi who can alter his heartbeat and body temperature with his mind, I guess he was really sick. Whatever the case, he managed to go another day without underwear.

At least now he has a pair.