So... it's no secret that Benjamin doesn't like to wear clothes. Really, I suppose most people feel inhibited in clothing, but living in the frozen tundra and being self conscious will eventually get the better of adults and so we like to cover up. Most kids grow to see us adults over dressed, and start learning to wear clothes also. Most kids. But, not Benjamin. Many of my friends and derby girls have come over to see him running around in his tighty whities. It's often a topic of conversation, in fact.
Ben loves his naked time. He always has. From the time he was little, he would strip his clothes off as fast as I could get them on him. This is actually a family trait, I suppose, because as soon as I hit the house, regardless of what I'm wearing or what I have been doing, I strip my bra and socks off. (9 times out of 10 you'll find them laying next to my favorite spot on the couch, actually.) What was really impressive was when he could magically get all of his clothes off while wearing a 5 point harness in his car seat. But one time, I distinctly remember driving down the road, heading to a pediatrician appointment and hearing Jake scream, "MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM!"
Of course, this type of screaming while I'm driving is dangerous, so I yelled at him to be quiet until I could stop. I stopped at a stop light, and turned around to look at him.
"What's the problem, Jake? CALMLY!"
He replied, "Ben threw his shoes out the window back there!" Dammit! I should've listened to him when he was yelling, because we were going to be late going to the doctor, but I had to get those shoes on him. What kind of mother brings her child to a hospital without shoes? (Probably the same kind who shows up late because she yelled at her oldest son to be quiet while she was driving...)
Unfortunately, Ben was sternly warned not to throw things out of the window ever again. I totally forgot to mention that he should make an attempt to keep his clothing on when we are not in the house.
That same summer, Ben lost 4 pairs of sandals. Every time I would take Benjamin to a playground, he would find a way to lose his shoes. One time, he buried them in the sandbox. None of us could find them. Another time, Jake said he might have thrown them in the garbage while I was in the bathroom. It got to the point that I learned to take his shoes off and just leave them in the car, hoping desperately that he would not cut his foot on glass or any other danger lying around on the ground.
There was one particular day though, when Ben really tested the limits of how much he could get away with. It was the middle of a dead cold winter. We were all really sick of being cooped up in the house, and so I decided to take the boys to a nearby Burger King with a giant playland for lunch. Before we sat down to eat, Ben had his shoes off and they were in the shoekeeper. I made him sit down and eat. When he finished eating, he darted for the playscape. Two times I had to wrangle him down and put his socks back on him, as he would tear them off and drop them right at the entrance.
With the kids happily subdued playing the in the play land, I started getting comfy and reading my book. Just as I was thinking I had made a good choice getting the kids out of the house, I hear Jake start into his tattle tale again. "MOM! Ben took off his socks again."
"Jake, just bring them here buddy. I'm just going to hold on to them."
"MOM! Ben has his toy on the slide and that's against the rules!"
"Jake, chill out."
Just as I settled back into my book, "MOM!"
"WHAT JAKE???!?!?!?!"
"um, Ben took his pants off on the slide."
"Dammit! Jake, get his pants and get down here. BEN COME HERE NOW!"
Jake brought me Ben's pants, and I started putting them back on Benjamin. I questioned Ben as to why he would refuse to wear clothing. His answer was very simple and clearly well thought out.
"I don't have time to wear pants, Mama."
Then began my internal rant. WHAT?!?!?! You're four! You have all the time in the world. Your agenda's pretty open. AND, how does wearing pants slow you down? What could you possibly mean by that? As I got my thoughts together and started preparing to lecture Ben about appropriate clothing in public for the millionth time, I noticed his sweatshirt was laying next to me and he was headed for the playscape entrance again. I quickly grabbed him, threw his shirt on him, and screamed for Jake to get his butt down here and get ready to go.
On the way home, I calmed down significantly, and apologized to Jake. I regretted both yelling at him for trying to help me, and for cutting his playtime short when he was being so well behaved. (After all, Jake almost never strips down for no apparent reason. He has TIME to wear his clothes properly.) After a little more time had passed, I realized, (begrudgingly) as I was telling Ryan of the horrific day that I'd had; it was pretty funny.
He doesn't have "time to wear pants". That's classic!
