Following is a visual representation of why my husband will no longer be allowed to go shopping for clothes for the boys without me. “They were only 5 bucks a piece”, he proclaimed proudly as he pulled the tee shirts out of the bag.
“Well of course they were only $5 each. You got them at a store that has a website dedicated to the people of it,” I (maybe not so) politely informed him.
So here they are, in least to most offensive order. Enjoy this preview of what my 10 year old will be sporting this Spring. It’s like a nightmare episode of Project Runway, with Michael Kors (LOVE HIM!) bellowing out over and over “What were you thinking?”
This is truly the least offensive of the bunch. There are 7 wolves on the shirt, some hidden in the landscape. Given the wolf focus, I think The Bloggess would approve. So I guess this one’s ok:
I have no idea why this next shirt is even appealing. To anyone. Unless somehow my son knows that Popeye likes spinach. And spinach is an ingredient in one of of my son’s favorite appetizers — warm artichoke/spinach dip (a.k.a. – cream cheese goodness with a little spinach for color).
Moving a step closer to hoodlum-ism, we have this little gem:
This one cracks my son up every time he reads it. Yeah, cuz guns are so funny:
I. Hate. This. One. Perhaps there will be a laundry mishap and the shirt will go MIA:
So if these examples still don’t convince it’s never a good idea to let your husband and your 10 year old son go clothes shopping without you, let this picture be the final proof that will spare you any further deliberation. When I pointed out the second line of text under the bell:
My husband said “Oh, I didn’t even see that”.
My 10 year old said “Cool! I’m gonna wear that to school tomorrow”.
And I said, “A(nother) trip to the principal to explain our sub-par parenting skills and judgement should really be avoided at all costs. You can wear it the next time you are hunting for wolves with a bear who has a gun, Popeye and the Call of Duty dude. Wear it to school and I’ll bust your skull.”
Editor’s Note: Growing up, I was a big AC/DC fan. At one point, my mom got word that the “Back in Black” album contained tons of naughty lyrics. What’s so naughty about a song with the lyrics: let me put my love into you babe, let me cut your cake with my knife?
She gave me the option of getting rid of the record or listening to it with her. I wisely pitched Bon and the rest of the Aussie boys into the trashcan.