Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Sunday, June 25, 2006 Fashion Plate
The life of a cover model isn't always glamorous. For example, we took M. Small up to the wading pool at the park today because we'd decided it was time for him to try out his new swimsuit.
This suit looked like such a good idea when we saw the ad for it in the paper. It's like a singlet, but it's got these two flotation pads sewn into the front and back to keep him afloat. Now that he's too big for his inner-tube-like floatie, this seemed like a fine alternative.
So today, after marinating him in SPF-million, I changed him into a pair of "Lil Swimmers" diapers and shoehorned him into the suit. After recovering from the sartorial horror of what I had wrought, I put him down on the floor and told him, "Go see Mommy!" and waited. The reaction I heard from the other room didn't disappoint.
Because here's the thing: the flotation pads effectively double the size of his torso. The only way you can be sure you even have it on the right way is the large logo on the front, and even with that it looks like it's on backwards. The bulky torso is electric blue, but the legs are knee-length, skin-tight, neon-green spandex, which would have made him look like he was running around on fluorescent pipe-cleaners if not for the fact that the Little Mermaid pattern on his swim diaper was showing faintly through the stretchy fabric.
"Are we really taking him out in public looking like this?" Trash asked me.
"He doesn't seem too embarrassed," I replied, and obviously he couldn't wait to get going.
"He looks like a tiny gay umpire superhero," Trash complained.
"He doesn't even know what most of those words mean, except tiny." I said. "And how big is M. Small?"
"Ohhh big!" M. Small crowed.
Trash loaded him into the wagon and headed to the park. I got the diaper bag with its change of clothes from my car, in case we didn't want to bring him home in his wet tiny gay umpire superhero costume. After I caught up with them I pointed to the red, floppy-brimmed number now strapped to his melon and said to Trash, "Good thing you butched up the outfit with his sunhat." The only bright side was that with his parents right there, he was unlikely to get beat up.
Swimming lasted about a minute, and not just because he dropped his car on the bottom of the pool and thought he could retrieve it himself; it also got cold. After a couple of minutes, we realized it was time to dry him off and get him dressed. My four-year-old niece Deniece and her dad came over to swim as well, and she didn't last any longer than our kid did. They went home (which is across the street) to get her changed, and I wished that I had made sure the diaper bag had an actual change of clothes in it.
Fortunately it did, although one should really check the clothes in one's child's diaper bag more than every four months. It's not that he couldn't fit into the blue-and-white-striped onesie and the sweatpants made for a one-year-old; it's just that we wouldn't have brought him out in public that way on purpose. At least not in an outfit that didn't float.
Compounding the issue was the fact that Trash had thought he should wear his sandals in the pool, so he didn't have anything dry to put on his feet. This is where it gets serendipitous.
When Deniece and her dad came back to play with us and M. Small at the park, they happened to bring with them a bag of Christmas gifts for him from Iowa relatives that had been at their house for a few months. Among the items inside were a pair of blue-and-yellow smiley-face bedroom slippers, complete with giant smiley-face pompoms on the toes. There was also a wool Weebok™ beanie with an elastic chinstrap, which was good because his sunhat had also gotten wet. In minutes he was hatted and shod and dressed, and the fact that it was in an outfit that made me want to beat him up was nobody's fault but my own. "We didn't plan this look," we wanted to tell the other parents at the park. As for M. Small, my opinion of his advanced mental development took a hit when it became apparent that he was totally unself-conscious about looking like some kind of weird Hanukah elf. Probably just as well, since it meant he was able to continue having fun instead of hiding under his wagon.
Yes, I did take a picture. No, I'm not posting it. I'd like my son to still speak to me when he's a teenager. posted by M. Giant 9:18 PM 12 comments
You pic-tease. I was all geared up to see the lovely boy in all his superhero glory :(
Oh, come on. I'm sure he'll find some *other* reason to be a surly adolescent...let's see the picture!
All this and NO picture?? C'mon M. Giant.. You dissapoint
You throw out that there's a picture, and then you DON'T share it???
Come on, M., show us the picture! You could take it down after one day - he would never know...
Put a black bar over his eyes. You can just deny it was really him.
Is it something like this plus a diaper? Just trying to help people get a visual. That's my nephew by the way.
Kim: Not quite. His has one giant floaty pad in front and one giant floaty pad in back, so instead of looking like the world's smallest suicide bomber, he looks like a squirmy day-glo sandwich.
I'm pretty sure that we have the same swimsuit for my son. We laughed so hard once wrestled him into it (and he put up a great fight)a couple of weeks ago because he did, indeed, look like a itsy-bitsy gay superhero. All that was needed was a Little Mermaid cape to match the Little Swimmers.
A better question than "Why would you tease us and then not post a picture?" is "Why would you put your son in Little Mermaid Little Swimmers, when there are Finding Nemo Little Swimmers readily available?"
Looking like the Hanukkah elf is better than looking like the Hanukkah Zombie.