purple day


Tomorrow is Purple Day in Junior Kindergarten. “Wear as much purple as you can!” this week’s backpack note exhorted gaily. “Purple shirt, purple pants, purple socks, purple shoes!”

I could handle Brown Day. Even Orange Day turned out all right, once I was able to convince Connor that it would be acceptable to wear his Halloween pajama top as a shirt, Just This Once.

But Purple Day? I have just spent fifteen minutes digging through all my sons’ clothing, and there is nothing purple. Nothing. Not even a polkadot, or a contrasting stripe.

“So skip it,” my husband said, in his infinite wisdom. But for Connor that is an unthinkable alternative. Purple Day is not optional. Attention must be paid. And Mama is scrambling. Might my lavender pashmina work? Cause that’s what I got.

Why do his teachers have to pick only the hardest colors? What’s wrong with Red Day? Blue Day? We have outfits out the wazoo for those.

Alternatively, couldn’t they choose a theme more resonant for preschool boys, such as:

Dirty Pants I Have Already Worn Three Times This Week Day
Shirt Which Is Two Sizes Too Small For Me But Which I Still Insist On Wearing Day

Either of these would be much easier for us, as a family, to observe.

If Connor rejects the lavender pashmina, I’m just going to put a white T-shirt on him tomorrow morning and then serve a too-tall glass of grape juice, and hope for the best. Wish me luck.

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