“Take that off,” she demanded when she realized what her toddler was wearing.

“You’re a boy! Boys do not wear bracelets.” And as she said it, she ripped off his pink plastic prize and flung it to the floor. And he started crying. Hard. But she didn’t care. She just rolled her eyes at her friend and continued her conversation about how the fence her next door neighbor is building is ruining her property value.

“Mommy,” Latham looked up at me and blinked, “why did that lady take his bracelet?”

“I’m not sure, buddy,” is all I felt comfortable saying, since we were standing right behind the woman and the son she just scolded.

David, Reichen, Latham, and I were at the Outdoor Movie and Fun Night the mom’s group I belong to organized. It was a cool summer evening and the boys (and by the boys, I mean Reichen, Latham, and David) were having a blast jumping in the bouncy house, playing toddler golf, and stuffing their faces with hot dogs, chips, and watermelon flavored snow cones.

It was getting dark, but before we spread out our blanket for the night’s feature flick, Toy Story II, Latham and Reichen wanted to play one more game. So we stood in line behind a little guy who couldn’t have been more than 2 ½ to play the Tootsie Roll game. And since his mom was no where in site, when it was his turn, I explained to all three little dudes how to play it.

“All you have to do,” I said, “is pick a lollipop.” “And then, you just have to tell me the color of your stick.” “If you have a green stick, you get to pick a prize from the green bowl. If you have a red stick, you get to pick a prize from the red bowl.”

I watched all three little guys gasp and giggle when they realized not only did they get to eat the lollipop, but they got to pick a prize, too.  They were psyched!

The bowls were full of all sorts of fun stuff such as bubbles, crayons, playing cards, and bracelets. And the little boys couldn’t wait to choose a lollipop and claim their reward. Reichen picked bubbles from the green bowl. And Latham and the other little guy choose pink bracelets from the red bowl.

“Look, mommy! I’m just like you,” Latham laughed when he held out his chubby little arm for my inspection.

“I know, baby,” I smiled. “You look just like mommy,” and I held out my wrist as well.

Latham loves bracelets.  And he has ever since he brought me a bangle from my jewelry box several months ago and asked if he could wear it.  And when 4 year old Lexy, one of his best buddies, offered him a bunch of rubber band bracelets, he wore all of them from his wrist to his elbow for two weeks.  He never took them off.  Ever.  And we let him.

“Why,” I replied, when David wondered one time why Latham was wearing bracelets. “He’s only 2 years old.”  “He doesn’t know what boys should wear and what girls should wear.” ”He just likes to wear them.”  ”And who cares, anyhow,” I laughed, “if wearing bracelets makes him happy, who are we to take that away.”  And David agreed.

And that’s the last conversation David and I have ever had about it.  My baby will figure out soon enough that boys don’t really wear bracelets.  So until then, he can wear them all he wants.  And when he asks why another mommy ripped one off his friend’s wrist, I’ll just shrug and say, “I don’t know, buddy.”

Because I don’t.