Terzo is the quintessential last child. The baby. He is waited on hand and foot by his four servants (two parents, two older brothers) because we simply haven't gotten out of the habit of catering to his every last whim. Terzo takes advantage of this mindset and has not challenged the status quo. You will never hear the words "I can do it myself" from his lips.
One of the things we tend to do for him is to lay out his clothes every morning. Since the start of school, we have been putting out "nice" shirts -- i.e., without any pictures or writing, usually with a collar -- and non-jean pants. Every morning, my LSH would compliment him on what a handsome guy he was on the way out to the bus.
After ten days of this, he did an end run around us yesterday morning and came down dressed in a Star Wars Lego T-shirt and clashing shorts. I took one look, and told him that he needed to change; I was referring to his shorts, but he launched into def-con mode one.
"NOOOOOOOO!" he screamed. "No more handsome clothes! I don't want to be handsome today!"
So we let the Star Wars T-shirt slide, although we did insist on non-clashing shorts.
Today, however, is picture day for the kindergartners. Back into handsome clothes. But he sabotaged our best efforts. Last night, while riding his scooter barefoot* in the driveway, he somehow slipped and smacked his head against the truck. The first my LSH knew about it, Primo was yelling for him and the dogs were going bonkers.
Luckily, having a doctor right in your house comes in handy when you have three boys. He and Primo managed to staunch the bleeding -- being a head wound, it was quite bad; Primo went back to hose down the driveway without being asked because he couldn't stand the smell -- and my LSH steri-stripped the wound closed. The location and nature of the cut did not make it a candidate for stitching, much to Terzo's relief.
So now we will have a school picture of Frankenkid with handsome clothes on.
* Yes, I have told him a million times not to do so. You can tell how well he listens to me.