I took my son to the Justice clothing store. In my opinion, it’s pretty awful. Lots of glitter, bows, animal prints and pink tulle….maybe like what Hello Kitty would see if she dropped acid. But it doesn’t really matter if I like it. I’m not shopping for me. Sure enough, my suspicions were correct. His 7yr old head explodes with excitement.
”I want this, I want that…I can’t decide!”
”We can pick out one outfit today and anything else you ask for we can keep in mind for Christmas or birthdays.”
”Got it.” he said.
He scours the store finally settling on a grey shirt with a picture of a snow leopard made out of sequins and pink leopard spotted leggings. The second we get home he races to put them on.
Throughout the day he keeps saying, “I love the store Justice. They have so many beautiful things there.”
”I thought you’d like it.”
Tonight, as I’m getting his brother and sister ready for bed he says, “Mom, Justice makes me feel in better communication with myself.”
”Oh yeah?” I say. Playing it cool, but inside completely blown away yet again by this 7 year old boy’s ability to articulate himself.
“Yeah. I’m like a flower. Most of the time I am like this…” He holds up his hand, fingers pinched together, fingertips toward the sky. “But Justice makes me feel like this…”
He opens his fingers like a flower in the sunlight.
…like I can bloom.”
Yep. Doesn’t matter one bit if I don’t like the clothes they sell. Doesn’t matter if I feel a little anxiety about talking to the sales clerk when we’re in there. Doesn’t matter that he really is going to wear what we buy there out in the world. What matters is, he feels like he is in better communication with himself and that he can bloom.
