A short truce has been declared in the sartorial battle of The #1 Son vs The Pony.
When typing up yesterday's post, I asked The Pony to holler upstairs for the name of Fancy Friday. I always draw a blank on that like I did on the ventriloquist's dummy. I know that it is alliterative, but I can never remember exactly. Dress-Up Friday doesn't have the same ring to it.
The #1 son was all smiles in providing the information. "Hey! It's next Friday! You're going to dress up, aren't you? MOM! Make sure you lay out nice clothes for The Pony to wear on Friday!"
"I don't think he will feel comfortable with that." The groans escaping The Pony were my first clue.
"He won't care! He needs to get his class doing it. Otherwise, the tradition will die when we graduate. Nobody else wants to do it."
"Why don't you go around and ask the freshmen on your lunch shift. The Pony shouldn't have to do it by himself. It's your idea. Your Fancy Friday."
"Naw. The Pony should dress up and tell everybody in his classes about Fancy Friday."
I don't foresee this happening. Even with this rare inclusion into #1's circle, The Pony has no ambition to be a sharp-dressed man.
2 comments:
Perhaps The Pony should begin his own way of being a groundbreaker on Fridays?
What about PJ Fridays? Or perhaps Mismatched Fridays...
I am SURE The Genuis would be please that his brother is being a class leader in his own way.
Sioux,
What a scathingly brilliant idea! The school won't allow PJ Fridays. But maybe you could start a restaurant chain with that name.
Fridays are taken. TAKEN! Like a seat in a movie theater showing Rochelle, Rochelle. So The Pony will have to start Mismatched Mondays. I'll give him free reign on his wardrobe choice. I think many of the kids are already observing it.
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