all things tripp

My little Tripper is definitely growing into his own personality quite quickly.
I'm afraid he's beginning to become a little boy.
Boo.
He's terrific and lovely and funny and has the best eyelashes in the whole wide world.
He loves sticks...because they can be made into guns.
He loves blocks...because they can be made into guns.
He loves curtain rods...because they can be made into guns.
He loves eating...because he's a boy...and because it keeps him strong to do his jobs and shoot his guns.
His words...not mine.

He's also a big fan of this outfit.

It's all he's wanted to wear for over a month.
It's an event trying to convince the poor guy to wear something different to church.

I was trying to get some fun pictures to remember his big achievement of conquering what was turning into the never-ending toilet drama.
We actually had to have a sit down talk with him about being old enough to use the toilet and needing to be a big boy.
After that very serious talk, it took him three days to be a pro!
He's a rockstar!!

But, he was not impressed with my picture idea.
Until I asked if he'd like to capture his really special papa boots and sweatshirt instead.
He lit right up and wanted some individual shots of his whole ensemble.

The papa boots.
He's been through many pairs of these precious boots.
They're just like my dad's work boots, so Tripp's been calling them papa boots since he got some when he was one and a half.
It'll be a sweet memory.
He also has a specific pair of jeans.
The others are his backups, but he REALLY needs these ones washed at all times. 

And now for the sweatshirt.
It's a hand-me-down.
There's no meaning.
But it is red, which seems to be a requirement.
The neck was so tight that I ended up cutting it into a "v" after he gagged one night taking it off.
Awesome, I know.
Then he got into a wrestling match with big sissy and it turned into a huge homeless looking mess. 

But he won't take it off.
And he won't trade it for a new one.
So I reluctantly put it on him every morning at 6:45 and sigh in sleepy exhaustion as I realize my little boy is turning into a big boy...with a crazy opinionated view on what he should wear.

But he's proud of his worn out jeans, dirty papa boots, and torn sweatshirt.
And that makes me smile.