This morning when Raphael (finally, reluctantly, with glacial speed) got dressed, he put on these shorts.
I love these shorts. They were Max’s beloved bug shorts. They expressed Max’s very soul, vibrant and startling and crawling with gorgeous bugs. Yes, I just said my son’s soul is crawling with bugs. I meant it in the best possible way.
Unfortunately, the bug shorts did not grow with Max. Eventually he could no longer get them on, and they were passed down to Raphael. Now, Raphi doesn’t adore the shorts like Max did. But it made Max happy to pass them along to his brother, and this way we could all still see them and enjoy them.
This afternoon the boys and I went to McDonalds. I was sitting at the table, chatting with friends, when Raphael slunk up to me, one hand clutching his behind. Enthusiastic play had done this to the well-worn shorts.
And although it is sad indeed, and although we will miss the shorts (I can’t keep them, can I? CAN I?), I comfort myself with this knowledge:
Perhaps THIS is just the event to teach Raphael once and for all why it is important to wear underwear.