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I Clearly Don’t Dress Up Enough

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A friend of mine is getting married next week. My wife and I will be attending her black tie attire wedding sans child. I’m pretty excited about it. The couple is the cutest ever and I’m super happy for them. It’s going to be a good time.

Life is busy and I only just today got around to being measured for the tuxedo rental. It was an interesting experience. Abigail is on a trip so it was Mr. Dude and I braving the mall on a Saturday afternoon without assistance from my wife. I, like always, parked on the complete opposite side of the mall in relation to where the store I wanted to go to is located. This is not done intentionally. I’m just not great at directions.

My two-year-old and I spent the better part of an hour walking around the mall and going up and down every set of escalators between the store and us. I did this for three reasons: first, he likes to do it. second, it would wear him out and hopefully allow for an easy fitting while he zoned on the iPad. And third, I was avoiding the actual fitting. I’ve gotten bigger since I had a kid and sort of wanted to avoid being completely honest about my new size post-fatherhood.

Concerned toddler is concerned.

After talking with the sales rep, I tried on a couple of pairs of pants and jackets that were from different designers. As I tried each set of items on in the dressing room Mr. Dude kept saying “No Daddy, No” and “Take it off Daddy” while pushing or pulling me with a fair level of toddler strength. Later as I switched jackets in front of the three-way mirrors at the store he walked back into our dressing room, grabs my jeans and brought them out to me saying “These Daddy, These.” He did the same thing with the Chucks I wore to the mall that day as I tried on the black dress shoes.

I have not worn a tuxedo since I got married almost ten years ago.

I’m not sure if he didn’t like what I was wearing or if he thought I was going to leave him at home while I went out. I need to dress up more often at any rate. I want my son to remember his dad wearing nicer clothes every once in a while and not always sticking to jeans and a t-shirt or polo. I guess it’s called being an official adult, huh?

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