I suppose if I had given birth to girls instead of boys there would have been hours spent doing little girl hair, tying ribbons and bows, picking out very pink wardrobes, and arranging and playing with baby dolls. But as it stands I gave birth to two precocious and active little boys. They both hate having their hair combed. Neither wants anything to do with baby dolls (though Holden does love to snuggle stuffed animals). Pink is not a color found in their wardrobes. And ribbons are only good for tying balloons to matchbox cars to make hot-air balloons. On occasion I will ask Jackson what he wants to wear to school. He usually responds with silence or better yet, he screams out "my Crocs!" Now never mind that it is winter here and Crocs would be entirely too chili and would leak snow. The vision of my son heading off to preschool in nothing but his pair of blue Crocs keeps me giggling to myself whenever he suggests it. But alas, recently when I have asked him what he wants to wear, he walks into his closet and points to his shirt with machines on it and exclaims emphatically "my machine shirt!" It is a short sleeved, "golf-style" shirt with images of construction machines all over it - bulldozers, excavators, etc. My mom got it for him -- mom shops Dillard's like it’s a sport! And Jackson loves that shirt. Adores it. It isn't pink. It isn't frilly. But it is the greatest shirt my son has ever seen. And he loves wearing it...with his Crocs... in December.