Why I Let Griff Wear a Leather, Fur-Lined Vest to School

Griffin likes to dress up. From the time he could dress himself, the kid was crazy about clothes. He'd see a superhero on TV or a monster in a book or a friend would come over, and he'd go running up to his closet and come down in a matching outfit.

It amazes me how he can make a white T-shirt and white shorts, a pair of AJ's white leggings, snow boots and a couple strategically placed hats look like an astronaut. Or how no matter what his daddy is wearing, Griff can figure out a way too match him.

Yes, Griffin's stylish creativity is one of my favorite things about him. But last week, when he wanted to dress like a cowboy for school, I hesitated.

He's tried to dress up in costumes for school before. And on those occasions, it was easy to say "no" because obviously you can't wear a dinosaur head or ninja mask to class. But this outfit -- this cowboy outfit -- was borderline normal (see above).

And  in a moment of honesty, I admitted to myself that the reason I wanted to refuse his request was not because I thought he'd be a distraction and not because I thought he'd get in trouble.

I was worried about what the other kids would think. Would they make fun of his leather, fur-lined vest and his black boots with red detailing? Would they laugh at his earnest desire to be a "cowboy" for the day?

When I realized the thought existed, when I focused on it, I saw that I was standing at a crossroads here:

I could either let my son continue to bathe in the fountain of inspiration; let him keep running through life with a giant, imaginary crayon, scribbling over the dreary parts with the bright colors of his imagination.

Or I could stop him cold and protect him from the potential rejection of his peers; help him learn to conform. Mold him into what a "proper" six-year-old boy should look and act like.

Griffin pretending to be a gargoyle in a "graveyard" that he set up.

On that day, looking over his outfit, and then into his hopeful face, I decided the answer was to let him dream. This time. I knew there was a risk he'd get teased. But I'm of the rare opinion that a little teasing is good for kids - it toughens them up and teaches them that not everyone will adore them like their mommies do.

But he didn't get teased. In fact, he was able to rope a good portion of his class into playing cowboys with him during recess (pun intended). He, in short, had a great day.

The next time he comes down the stairs in a silly outfit, hoping to wear it to school, will I say "yes"? It depends. Because, while I want him to continue to indulge his creative side, I also want him to be a responsible member of his class. So if the outfit is too distracting (ie that dinosaur head or the Hulk costume, complete with over-sized fist gloves), I'll tell him to change. I even tell him to change if his jeans have holes in them because I want him to show "respect" for his teacher and classmates.

But if it's a "plumber" outfit like this one over here, then more power to him! He ain't hurting nobody. And I want that light, that fearlessness, to last as long as it can.

The world is a dark, scary place. But thankfully, Griff doesn't know that yet. And I wonder, if I can just hold back the bleakness long enough, until he's past the point where I can shield him anymore, he'll be too happy and secure to let all the bad things tear him down.

So yeah. That's why I let him wear a leather, fur-lined vest to school.