It was a damp 50 degrees the other morning when Boots got dressed in a basketball uniform. It’s silky and red and one of his favorite outfits.

It also is a hand-me-down from Big Guy, who refused to wear it until he saw how much Boots loved it. Two years after the fact, Big Guy tried to squeeze into it once it had the brother seal of approval. He was visibly disappointed when it didn’t fit.

Big Guy, you see, won’t wear shorts except for swim trunks or when they’re part of a soccer uniform and he’s forced to.

Their wardrobe choices are as predictable as the seasons, except their clothing picks have nothing to do with the seasons. Big Guy insists on covering as much skin as possible at all times. Boots wants to bare it all regardless of how cold it is.

And I really don’t care. If they get hold enough or cold enough, they’ll change.

That has me swimming against the tide again, on Boots in particular. I’m used to the condemning looks from parents who swaddle their preschoolers in three layers the second the summer breeze cools the slightest bit. I’ve survived the admonishments to buy those kids some undershirts. I’ve heard enough “that child is going to freeze to death” lectures to last a lifetime.

Freeze to death? Really? In California, when the temperature isn’t even below freezing?

I remember one particular winter when I was a kid and it was considered a badge of honor to go out for recess on a snow-covered playground wearing nothing but a hoodie. I don’t recall anyone ever succumbing. Even though the temperature was well below freezing on those days, when you’re running and playing your core temperature stays higher,

Nowadays, though, there seems to be some confusion about how cold “cold” really is. That led to a ream of hand-outs at a preschool the guys used to go to after parents complained that their rosy-cheeked cherubs had come home with frostbite. The windchill factor was in the 40s on the day in question.

If we were living in a colder climate – genuinely cold, not California cold – my take might be different. For now, though, I can trust the guys judgment and know that they’ll come running in when the weather gets too much for them to handle.

For the record, Boots made it only three steps down the sidewalk before turning around to get his jacket the day he wore the basketball uniform. Let’s see, three steps to compliance or a ruckus that’s going to leave everyone angry?

I’ll pick three steps every time.

Copyright 2010 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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