Motherhussy

Boys in Heels

My eight-year-old sons (Cody and Colton) are 110% boy. They love playing sports, watching ESPN, going to any type of athletic event, toilet humor, getting dirty, getting injured, and all those other lovely things boys (and men) love to do. But, there is one thing that they love to do that I don't think necessarily fits into the all around "boy" category.

Quietly, without calling attention to themselves, they will walk in a room a couple of inches taller. Why this sudden growth spurt, you ask? Well, adorned on their size 4 feet are my size 6 heels. It's quite amusing to see a boy, clad in dirty baseball cap, baggy basketball shorts, and some random boy-looking tee (must have fire, skulls, or sports equipment on it), striding across my living room floor like a miniature drag-queen.

I will be making dinner, look up and see my son gazing over the balcony outside—a spiked black heel dangling lightly over the edge. At that moment my brains seizes—do I laugh at the sight, or yell at the little set of well-formed legs to “Be careful!”? I can’t utter a word because my mouth is too busy half-laughing, half gagging. That’s the best kind of laugh.

Of course, once the little metrosexual realizes he has been spotted, the forced humor begins.

“What are you looking at giiiirlfriend?” he’ll say with an awkward shake of the hip.

“If you want this relationship to work, you better be willing to work!” Is another phrase that pops out.

“Cody and/or Colton, take off my shoes and put them away,” I’ll say with tears streaming down my face.

“Whatever,” the little vixen will reply as he saunters back into the house and off of the 2 ½ inch heels that brought him so much joy.

The sad thing is, damnit, they walk sexier in heels than I do. I wonder—will America’s Next Top Model ever feature a drag version? They should really consider it.

posted by Anonymous @ 12:02 PM