Blown Attire

Preparing to leave the house
already late, in a hurry,
my youngest son decides
that his attire isn’t proper
for our destination.

“I want shorts Dad, not
long pants, and another shirt,
no, not that one, no, not that
one either, yeah, that one.”

“No, Dad, not those shorts,
those other ones, no, there,
right there, yeah those ones.”

I was angry,
late
and angry,

I hurriedly “helped” him dress
Then sadly realized
that he hadn’t brushed his teeth
or combed his hair.

I was getting even more angry,
and even more late,
and even more angry,

I rushed into the bathroom,
combed his blonde, reckless hair,
watched him brush his teeth,

and glanced into the mirror
at the beautiful young boy
and the embarrassed balding man
in their matching red shirts
and Khaki shorts.