Hot pink

 
 
Hot pink
Is
The
Color
My
Son
Chose
For
His
Latest
Cast
 
Much to the consternation and surprise (best say shock) of most attending adults  
At the doctor's office yesterday
He's been through many other colors in the spectrum.  
He began with green, his favorite color, that of life and verdant foliage. My words, not his, of course, he's only five, after all.  
Next came red, a choice that may have been influenced by classmates as he sometimes polls to see what others think. Who knows?  
My son: he dances to the tune of his own making and I let him most oft for it is a merry and oft-enlightening one.  
 
Next came the cast he did not choose, one thrust upon him whilst unconscious after something called a closed wrist reduction, basically a process to set the bone aright that had gone awry as in some horror flick.  
 
That one, chosen by doctors and staff, was camouflage, and upon awakening and seeing it upon his arm, my son promptly fell into tears of hatred and demanded it off.  
 
Alas and alas
 
That one remained on the longest. He made his peace with it, but vibrant color wouldst have made my boy much happier
 
I must pause here a moment to explain one thing I think for those who think they know my son through my words thus far...
 
He is a whirling dervish of activity, my son. It has taken me these five looooong years to begin to comprehend him and still I fail at times for, you see, I am and will always be essentially in all things the essence of femininity.  
 
And he, well he, yes he is he. Most masculine essentially. The essence of masculinity is my son is he. Believe me, oh, believe it.  
See: he runs through yards naked, wild, and free with me consternatedly gesticulating come in the neighbors will see. Careth he? What think thee?
 
He dashes through clean rooms wreaking mayhem as he goes. Within moments, chaos ensues. Not malicious, nor vicious. Perhaps a bit capricious, certainly mischievous.
 
Sweet as can be, saving grace for me and he, er him (can't sacrifice grammar for rhyme now, can we?)
 
Stops to kiss leaves and trees, would kiss bees (no, No, NO! They'll sting! And, don't eat those berries, either. We don't know what they are! NO!)
 
His backpack got caught on a hook today at the bottom of the stairs as we were on our way to school. He couldn't get it free. I freed it for him. When I did, he gave it a wee kiss, then kissed me...
 
Then, he tore out the door, racing for the car pell-mell, full out, scaring the neighbor's cat on the way with his rambunctiousness
 
The next cast he chose was vivid blue and he loved it well. 'Twas a relief after all that hiding...
 
This time he picked pink, hot pink it is, quite vibrant in hue. I wasn't in the room. The doctor had called me to view the x-ray of his healing arm and the technician began while I was gone.  
 
He surprised them all.  
 
You wouldn't think grown persons would be so shocked by a five-year old's color choices, but they were. Several adults came in to talk and ask him about his color choice. They were bemused.  
 
So, I told of how the Victorians believed that pink was too strong a color, too masculine for women, and thus only men wore it back then and blue was relegated to women for it was considered delicate and demure.  
 
'Tis funny to me how colors come to mean things when truly all color should be open to all human beings.  
 
It is a vibrant world and we are vibrant beings.  
 
 

(He was 5 when this occurred and he is 7 now, so tis all in the past ~ the break, that is. The bees and trees, well...)