Redneck Review

Monday, May 09, 2005

High Heels & Make-Up & Purses, Oh My!

My number one son carried a purse when he was 2-3 years old.
I know, that's not very redneck of him. I had gotten a new purse,
and he wanted the old blue one. He carried it around the house
with an old checkbook cover and a little flip notebook and a
couple of toys. My mom thought it was cute, I thought it was
harmless, and my husband thought it was disturbing.

One evening we went to the Family Center, which is like a
country Walmart with horse medicine and saddles and
hardware. We needed some plumbing parts and electrical
boxes. I pulled a cart up to the van to put him in, and he
dragged that confounded purse out with him.

"No, honey, the purse is for home or in the car. You can't take
it in the store." I tried to pry it out of his little fingers.

"My purse!"

My husband came around to give it a try. "You're not taking
that purse! Boys don't carry purses!" He tried to pull it away.

"Miiiiiiiiiiine!" Tears. He wouldn't let go.

I took my checkbook out of my purse and put it in his, leaving
my purse in the van. "Keep this for me." We went on with
our shopping, pretending it was my purse in the cart, not our
2-year-old son's.

My parents kept number one son for two years while I worked.
Some evenings he met me at the door wearing clip-on earrings,
fingernail polish, powder, lipstick, beads, and high heels. I
asked my mom not to let him do this. She said, "Honey, he's
just playing. He sees me do it, and he wants to try it."

She bought him a pink plastic pair of little kid high heels at
the Dollar Store. It is like Walmart, only cheaper. He loved
those shoes, and wore them all around the house. They were
not allowed outside.

By now he was almost three. We moved to our house in the
country. The 6-year-old girl across the road came to visit,
bringing her 10-year-old brother. My son took them into his
room to show off his stuff. He lifted the lid off a wooden
chest, took out the pink, plastic, jewel-encrusted high heels,
and placed them on his feet. "These are my high heels," he
said proudly. The little girl looked longingly at the shoes. Her
brother backed slowly out of the room. "Uh, I gotta be going."

The kid won't admit to the purse and high heels now. He
doesn't even like me to talk about them.

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