Our son, Sweet Potato, is an energetic six-year-old. He moves quickly and impulsively. Consideration of rules, standards, and reactions usually occurs after an event. This applies to most areas in his life, and wardrobe is no exception.
If SP is going swimming, he will bring his swimsuit to the pool. He goes through the turnstile at the gate and BOOM! Naked on the deck of pool! Need to use the bathroom at the library? His pants and undies are magically around his thighs outside the door and he does potty shuffle into the restroom. Hot after playing outside in 90-degree weather? Whoomp, there it is!
This was cute when he was a toddler. However, he is an elementary school student and nobody wants to see that. My husband, parents, and I have decided to have a kind, but firm, nudity crackdown. We have made simple rules: If you change at home, you need to be in your bedroom or the bathroom. If you have to change clothes away from home, you do so in a bathroom.
We have been practicing the new rules this summer with success. He will stop himself mid-button or mid-snap, then make his way to privacy. He will even duck into the restroom at the pool to remove his rash guard. The rash guard removal is a very literal interpretation of our rule, obviously, because he will be shirtless in the pool. If we point that out, it would be confusing for him. I take advice from Paul McCartney and Let It Be.
Until this morning, I was not aware that Sweet Potato appointed himself the clothing police. We were leaving the house, he was ahead of me, out the door. I grabbed my purse and locked the door and I heard him yell, "Why are you NAKED?" For one scary second, I actually worried that there was a naked person in the yard. He yelled again, "Why are you NAKED?" I looked at past the driveway. There was a young guy in the street walking two dogs and he was shirtless. SP screamed at him a third time.
He was stunned, and could not comprehend why the kiddo in the driveway was screaming about his offense. He stood there and looked scared. Partially naked and afraid. I spoke to SP, "He is not naked, he is shirtless." SP looked panicked and he said, "But Mama, he is naked! He should not be naked!" The man with the dogs said nothing and made his way down the street.
When SP was in the car and strapped into the car seat, we talked again about clothing. I explained again that the guy wasn't really naked, he just wasn't wearing a shirt. SP insisted, "But you make me wear a shirt." I knew this conversation would not end without me simplifying things.
"In our family, we wear shirts unless we are in the shower or swimming." Aha! Silence! Even if it was for just 30 seconds.
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