We went shopping for spring/summer clothes yesterday. Mostly for my big guy, since the littles, Seth and Jesse, have more hand-me-downs than they can handle.
Somehow, Seth, happened upon a line of clothing from Tony Hawk, skateboarder extraordinaire.
Seth has never talked about skateboarding or been on a skateboard.
Yet he was drawn to the skater-boy styles like moth to the proverbial flame.
"Tony Hawk," he whispered in awe. He picked up a black T-shirt awash with red swirls (20 bucks before the 30 percent off) and hugged it to his chest. "I love, love, love this, Mama," Seth crooned.
My skinny little non-skater was beside himself with joy. He grabbed a pair of brown baggy knee-length shorts, pulled a bright crimson T shirt laden with skateboard graphics off the rack and held tightly them both, along with his original choice."Please, please can I?" he begged.
Given the 30 percent off, I plopped them all in the shopping cart. It was, however, a little mystifying, this sudden turn toward clothing consumerism.
Seth happily modeled his cool new duds for us at home this morning, then informed me of his future shopping plans. "Mom, can we go back to the Tony Hawk store today? I want Tony Hawk hats and shoes, and definitely Tony Hawk underwear (marketers, are you listening?)"
"So Seth," I asked. "Who is Tony Hawk?"
"Oh, Mama," he replied dreamily. "He is the bestest skateboarder ever. I love him."
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