A Day of Firsts, and a Guest Post (Of Sorts)

May I confess something? I occasionally fear that you guys read some of my posts and wonder if I’m exaggerating certain things. But the thing is, the air marshals? The Worst Date Ever? My runaway skirt? IT ALL REALLY HAPPENED. And in point of fact, one of the very reasons I started this blog was to stop harassing my close friends and loved ones with my lengthy emails detailing these types of bizarre occurrences. Anyway, I come before you once again with a tale of utter weirdness, but this time, I have a special guest to corroborate my story: My husband, J! He'll be helping out with this post; his comments appear in italics throughout. He's very excited about this, so be nice. ;)

Earlier today, J, Toopweets and I were taking a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood. We walked past the park and, after pushing T on the swing for approximately nine hundred years, decided to head home. We made our way out to the street, where a large family was walking ahead of us. J and I smiled at each other, watching the kids all chattering happily together.

It was then that we noticed that two of the boys in the group were wearing only their underpants.

Mind you, they were not toddlers. They had to be AT LEAST between 7 and 9.

J: First of all, this is completely accurate. And can I just tell you all, the whole thing was very, very weird. Made weirder still by the t-shirt that the father--

Dammit, J! That’s the best part!

Anyway, J and I then had a brief but memorable ESP-type conversation, which essentially amounted to: “Hey! Why are there children walking down a major thoroughfare in their underwear? And what should we do for dinner? Also, should we go to Florida or California for our next vacation?” (Impressive, no? We’ve been married a while; you get good at these sorts of things over time.) We walked a bit closer to get a better sense of what was going on.

Yup. Two pre-adolescent boys walking down the street in their tighty-whiteys and Crocs. (Hello, pervert Googlers!) Mind you, they'd all just come out of the park, too. Nothing like chilling at the park in your ratty underwear in 90-degree weather. [J: Also, to be accurate, Metalia? Their underwear was tighty, but it was NOT uh, whitey. I wouldn't be parading myself around town in those dingy things.] Perplexing us further, the rest of the family (which included a father, a mother, an older brother, and a few girls) was wholly clothed. The father, however, was wearing a shirt which bore the message “National Underwear Day” on the back.

Naturally, I couldn’t wait to get home to research this event. We learned that “National Underwear Day is an event that evokes the care-free attitude of Sixties ‘happenings’ when free spirits took control of public spaces as a venue for their art, their message.” (National Underwear Day, in case you were interested, took place this year on August 7^th.)

Um, WTF?

I’m at a total loss here. So much so that I can’t properly form my numerous questions. J, help me out here.

J: No problem; I think what you’re trying to get at is this: Why was this family parading around with two half-clothed children? Were they actually celebrating National Underwear Day? If so, were they aware that they were nearly a week late? And if they were celebrating it late, why would they only have two of the kids in their underwear? What about the dad who was actually wearing the National Underwear Day shirt? Why was he not in his underwear? And regardless, isn’t the whole thing really inappropriate for children? Also, why do you leave your wet towel on my side of the bed?

Not funny, J! (But otherwise very well done; you covered all of my questions.)

Each and every time I think that living in New York has shown us everything that there possibly is to see in the way of weirdos, there’s always another situation to prove me wrong.

(J: Don't forget about those identically dressed old lady twins that live here!

Oh yeah! I forgot about them.)

Perplexed though I was by this National Underwear Day situation, I couldn’t dwell on it for too long, because we had to go buy Toopweets his first pair of shoes today. I keep saying things like, "He's a real boy now!" but that just makes him seem like he was Pinocchio before, so I'll refrain, and just say this: He's getting big awfully quickly.

In a brilliant move on my part, I totally forgot to bring socks for him. On our trip to get him shoes.

I’m a clever, clever girl.

Here he is, wearing the new socks we had to get at the store, and trying on shoes:

We did not end up getting those shoes, however, due to the Frankenstein-esque quality they imparted. See below:

Update: Stefanie and Liz just pointed out in their comments that I hadn't initially included a picture of the shoes we ultimately bought. Happy to oblige; they match pretty much everything he owns, and I think they're cute, but then again, I'm not so well-versed in toddler shoes:

Toopweets was very patient throughout the whole process, due in no small part to this genius diversion:

Hello, my little clone baby.

We ultimately picked a pair that both fit well and looked cute (surprisingly harder than you’d think), and celebrated with ice cream...

And sideways head tilting in my in-laws' living room. Because that's just how we roll:

And how was your weekend? Did any of you happen to spot any National Underwear Day devotees, or are we the only "lucky" ones?