Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Instagram kid.

You know that kid, the impossibly perfectly dressed kid who is the same age as my Wally? The kid we all wish our sons would dress like? Or our husbands? 


Well I can't even get my kids to wear clothes half the time and when they do, they insist on dressing themselves which, although character and self esteem building, means that they are often dressed like Ace Ventura. 


Like a lot of the time.


So back to this Instagram kid. He's adorable. He has impeccable style and he's inspired others(' parents). 


And there in lies my problem with this. Either those kids are not able to be normal kids or they are ripping the crap out of their Stella McCartney pants as soon as the photographer (or mom) turns her back. 

What impossible egos are these kids growing into? It's like American Psycho, the prequel. 


I sound like a jealous monster. Maybe I am. I mean, I am in that I wish my boys were these polished, perfect Instagram kids but then I think of the reality of the situation; my kids could find dirt and mud in the most sterile of environments. They're like Rambo of dirt. 


And possibly these Instagram boys are more like my boys than their pictures would have you know. 

It's like Toddlers and Tiaras for boys. 

Oh my god, TLC! Get on that, I would so watch that show. 

Here if you want to read more about the Instagram kid. 

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