Independence Through Underwear

Recently my son needed new undies, which meant a trip to Target and to the product placement as clothing section that passes for boy's clothing. Many options stood before him, including the Transformers, but, as usual, he was drawn to, and picked the Power Rangers.

My son is obsessed with two things, Power Rangers and Lego Racers, neither of which he has ever seen on TV, or actually played with for any appreciable amount of time. This obsession comes solely from his classmates who may or may not know what these things are either. If there were Lego Racer underwear, he would have undoubtedly chosen them, as they occupy roughly 95% of his waking thoughts. Lego Racers, not underwear. Well, I hope underwear doesn't occupy his thoughts.

You think I'm joking, but I can assure you that I am not. Everything has to do with Lego Racers. The car isn't a car, it's a Lego Racer. He and his sister run around the house racing as Lego Racers. Well, he's a Lego Racer, she's just running with him and using it as an opportunity to yell in the house. The dogs are Lego Racer dogs. Dinner is a dinner for Lego Racers. This morning, on the way to school, the song on the radio was a Lego Racers song. For the record, Lego Racers like Snow Patrol.

Along with obsessing over Lego Racers, he's obsessed with winning. Not surprisingly, he wins at everything, even events that are undertaken solely by himself. When he walks into a room, he wins. When he sits down at the table he wins. Sometimes Abby gets there first, at which point he'll say that he almost wins, which is, I imagine, a less traumatizing way of saying you lost. All day, every day, it's just winning and Lego Racers. Whenever he really gets going with the "I win" stuff, I can't help but think of the episode of Friends where the gang was talking about past sexual partners. Monica was remembering someone, I think his name was Scott, who would repeatedly say "I win" when he was, well, "winning". I know it's horribly inappropriate to think of that in regards to my children, but you live with someone saying "I win" easily 4 dozen times a day and see what pops into your head.

I know that he has no idea what a Lego Racer is, because at one point, he said "Lego Racers don't use blocks", why, I have no idea. He'll randomly come up with nouns that Lego Racers do or don't use as well as verbs that Lego Racers do or don't employ. Statements such as "Lego Racers grow jalapeños" or "Lego Racers lobby for peace in Palestine" would not be out of place in our home. Me being the thoughtful and understanding father that I am, could not let a statement of such gross ignorance go unchecked, even if it was uttered by someone who can't tie his own shoes. I explained that Lego Racers not only used blocks, but were made from blocks, Lego blocks to be exact. He looked at me like I was a fucking idiot. And people wonder why I choose to not interact with my children.

Getting back to the underwear, when I saw that he had picked the Power Rangers, I was tempted to direct him towards the Transformers, but I resisted. Previous attempts at getting him interested in Transformers met with dismal failure and the Transformer toys purchased for this purpose lay alone and unloved in the toy cabinet. Besides, it's his life and his childhood and it's up to him to pick which corporate created, live action commercial he chooses to gird his loins with. Plus, being that he's 4, hygiene isn't a top priority, so better the Power Rangers fall victim to insufficient wiping than my beloved Optimus Prime.

It is amazing though, how early we, as parents, try to steer our kids to liking the same things we like, and how quickly they resist, either because what you like is lame and old, or they just need to discover and fall in love with things on their own. I'm sure that if his friends had Transformers, it'd be a different story, but dear old dad being the only one isn't quite cool enough. I'm ok with that, as I'd rather he have something he can relate to his peers with, other than the eating of snot and snot by-products. Plus, now I can purchase Transformers in front of him with abandon and, when he asks if he can have one, trot out the fact that he does have some and he never plays with them. I hope to get bonus points for the use of a parental cliche.

In the meantime, he'll be happy with his underwear, unless things have changed and Lego Racers no longer use underwear. As I, clearly, have no idea what Lego Racers do and don't do, I could be completely wrong as to what Lego Racers wear. I know that back in the day, when I made the fateful switch to boxers, walking up and down a flight of stairs made me feel like a winner, so perhaps Lego Racers wish for the same freedom of movement. I'm sure by the end of the evening I'll have an answer, either by maternal decree that Lego Racers do in fact use underwear or by my son just randomly saying "Lego Racers don't go commando". At the rate he's pairing Lego Racers with the rest of the English language, this phrase isn't too far off.