Last year, I wrote about my then 10 year old son, who exploded when I started to head to a yoga class wearing these shorts. He threw out all sorts of comments from “Mom, your shorts need to be longer!” to “You’re too old to wear shorts like that!” Since then, like a 16 year old, I have had to sneak out of the house when I plan to wear my short shorts.
This week, I was able to use his uber-conservative, overprotective side to my advantage when he went to meet some friends at the park. About 30 minutes later, I asked my husband whether he rode his bike. “Yup,” he answered. “Well, his helmet is sitting right here,” I complained.
So I did what any good mother would do. I walked the dog down to the park to make sure that he got there safely. But I also wore shorts, not my shorty shorts that he hates, but my slightly too large shorts that hang on my hips. And I also wore a top that was just slightly too short so there just might have been a teeny bit of mid-riff showing. I was barely in eyesight when the kid bolted in my direction.
“Hi, Mom!” he called as he approached me. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m walking Zeda. Where’s your helmet?”
“Oh….it’s home. Can you walk the other way?”
“Well, I walked here to make sure that you got here safely.”
“Oh…”
“And if you ever leave home again without your helmet, I will walk to meet you again. And each time, I will wear less and less because seeing my skin is nothing compared to seeing your brains all over the sidewalk.”
“Okay, I get it,” he laughed. “Now can you walk the other way?”
That kid better not ever forget his helmet again.
