Here's the Thing about Horizontal Stripes (an Ode to Kyle Hoffer)
There was this kid in second grade. His name was Kyle Hoffer*. I liked him. A lot, really. He was a cool kid. One time, he threw up a yet-to-be-digested hamburger in the hall after recess. We somehow concluded, with our eight year-old logic that he was consciously responsible and altogether magical for the fact that it still REALLY looked like a hamburger. After all, I couldn't do that. Could you?
Another time, on a dare, he swallowed a dime. Immediately thereafter, the school-nurse took him by the hand and escorted him, wide-eyed and red-faced, out of the cafeteria. He didn't actually cry, although I saw the tears welling up as soon as the coin got stick right alongside his yet-to-blossom Adam's apple. He managed to hold it together though, at least until his mom arrived.
Kyle had brown hair and brown eyes (or maybe hazel, or were they green?) and pretty big ears, as little boy ears go. And the thing is, he always, at least as I remember it, he always wore horizontal stripes.
I do not wear horizontal stripes, and I cannot see horizontal stripes without thinking of Kyle Hoffer. And in tribute to my young friend, I have, for as much of my adult life as I can remember, referred to this kind of shirt as "a Kyle Hoffer." For example, if we are shopping for Elias, my husband will invariably pick up a shirt and the following conversation ensues:
Not because Kyle Hoffer wasn't a freaking great kid. That's not it. It's just, well honestly, I don't have a clue what it is. I just have a thing about horizontal stripes. I'm like that. If you know me, you know that, well, sometimes I just get stuck on these things. And this is one of those things.
There's something about horizontal stripes that screams little boy in a not MY little boy sense. Is that crazy? Does that make any sense at all?
Whatever. It doesn't matter whether it makes sense. My little boy is NOT going to wear a Kyle Hoffer.
I have stood firm.
Until this week.
Behold, my little boy in a TOTAL Kyle Hoffer.
He looks pretty good, doesn't he?
Great. I better start hiding the dimes.
__________________________________________
*This is his real name, because as I have said before, I am an idiot. Maybe Kyle will find me. Kyle, if you are reading this, please don't take offense. (Sorry about the big ear comment.) The truth is, I had a crush on you in second grade. And you are a fashion icon.
Another time, on a dare, he swallowed a dime. Immediately thereafter, the school-nurse took him by the hand and escorted him, wide-eyed and red-faced, out of the cafeteria. He didn't actually cry, although I saw the tears welling up as soon as the coin got stick right alongside his yet-to-blossom Adam's apple. He managed to hold it together though, at least until his mom arrived.
Kyle had brown hair and brown eyes (or maybe hazel, or were they green?) and pretty big ears, as little boy ears go. And the thing is, he always, at least as I remember it, he always wore horizontal stripes.
I do not wear horizontal stripes, and I cannot see horizontal stripes without thinking of Kyle Hoffer. And in tribute to my young friend, I have, for as much of my adult life as I can remember, referred to this kind of shirt as "a Kyle Hoffer." For example, if we are shopping for Elias, my husband will invariably pick up a shirt and the following conversation ensues:
And we do NOT buy the Kyle Hoffer.
JM: "What about this one?"
Tamara: ... [A certain expression and dead silence, because I tire of repeating myself.]
JM: "What? What's wrong with this one? Is this a Kyle Hoffer? Ugh..."
Not because Kyle Hoffer wasn't a freaking great kid. That's not it. It's just, well honestly, I don't have a clue what it is. I just have a thing about horizontal stripes. I'm like that. If you know me, you know that, well, sometimes I just get stuck on these things. And this is one of those things.
There's something about horizontal stripes that screams little boy in a not MY little boy sense. Is that crazy? Does that make any sense at all?
Whatever. It doesn't matter whether it makes sense. My little boy is NOT going to wear a Kyle Hoffer.I have stood firm.
Until this week.
Behold, my little boy in a TOTAL Kyle Hoffer.
He looks pretty good, doesn't he?
Great. I better start hiding the dimes.
__________________________________________
*This is his real name, because as I have said before, I am an idiot. Maybe Kyle will find me. Kyle, if you are reading this, please don't take offense. (Sorry about the big ear comment.) The truth is, I had a crush on you in second grade. And you are a fashion icon.
Comments
My husband was actually teased by a friend of his in high school relentlessly (actually through college) because she only saw him wearing striped shirts. Horizontal, vertical, heck he probably had diagonal ones. The man put Tommy Hilfiger on the map in the late 80s, early 90s. Now, he doesn't by many striped shirts because he still can hear the voices taunting him....giggle...