My son needed some shoes when school started and while my daughter and I were out shopping, we stopped in to get him a new pair of Crocs. I asked my daughter which pair she liked for my son and she picked out the camo pair over the basic blue pair. I rather liked the camo pair (I was hinting in that direction as I took her to the shelves) because my son likes camo pants and he just looks good in camo colors.
We got the shoes, got home and she gave him the pair. He's loved them ever since. Flash forward in time to Halloween and we're at our neighborhood party and one of my neighbors is in some sort or redneck outfit or something. I asked him what he was and he told me some name and I still didn't have any idea who he was. His wife said, "from Duck Dynasty," but that didn't help because I'd never heard of that band before. She told me it was a television show and asked what rock I'd been living under to not have heard about it.
I forgot all about it and then at my son's three-year checkup he was wearing his camo shoes. His pediatrician said to him, "I see you're wearing your Duck Dynasty shoes." I looked down at those camo shoes and didn't say a thing to the doctor.
Later, I told my husband to look at his shoes carefully. They weren't traditional camo, they were these reed and grass things that, while definitely in the camouflage realm, weren't the standard pattern.
So it turns out my son had Duck Dynasty shoes all along.
The Big Boy Update: Oh shit. That's right, he heard me swear and immediately repeated what I said. I'm only surprised it hasn't happened before now, given the total number of swear words that must have come out of my mouth in his presence by now.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "No thank you, Fox." My son's middle name is, "Fox" and for some reason today that eludes me, my daughter decided to call him by only his middle name. He was bothering her and she kept saying, "no thank yo, Fox!" to tell him to leave her alone.
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