When Zachary was a baby, his favorite color was orange. Offered a choice of toys, he would inevitably choose the orange one. He had four stacking cups, but he tossed aside the blue, the red, and the yellow. Orange was where it was at.
Soon, however, he discovered pink. The obsession was fast and it was complete. If he did not want to wear mittens, all I had to do was buy pink ones, and suddenly he was all into keeping his fingers warm. In the summer, he wanted pink shorts, no easy item to find in boy-appropriate cuts.
He stayed in love with pink for two full years, half of his short life. Part of the interest may be that I like pink and wear it quite a bit. Or, it may be that pink is a very pretty color. Or, it may be that he is destined to become a marketer for Disney. Who the hell knows.
Recently, however, the pink thing has subsided a little. He still likes it a lot, but when he needed new crocs, he wanted brown, of all colors. He loves to wear his pink polo shirts, but he also really likes a Cowboys jersey his grandparents bought him. Suddenly, he prefers gray shorts.
Never fear, however; those pink shorts are going to good use. You see, just as Zachary has left his pink phase behind, Benjamin has begun his. He wants pink socks, pink balls, and of course, pink Hannah Anderson shorts. Pinkalicious is one of his favorite books, and should he ever decide to actually poop on the potty, we have a copy of Purplicious waiting in the wings. It goes without saying he wears pink pajamas.
If Benjamin’s pink phases lasts as long as Zachary’s, he may just be coming out of it when this baby turns two. Right on time for her to inherit all the pink crap that is overflowing my house.
This girl had better be into black.