There is a red shovel in almost every picture of my oldest son when he was a toddler. He found two shovels in one summer at the beach. The original was lost within a few days but the survivor, a scoop that was probably once used in a boardwalk candy shop, stayed with us for almost two years.

My son’s entire focus was on having that red shovel with him at all times. And my goal was to break him of the red shovel. That was because half of my time was spent searching for the shovel when it got lost.

The red shovel was my archenemy until I met the Evil Mr. Soft Pants.

My three year old has an obsession with wearing “soft pants” aka sweatpants. Only a few months ago were we able to convince him that his legs would not melt if he wore corduroys. And that was only if they did not have buttons. God forbid they have buttons! This weekend we attempted jeans. And we will not be doing that again for awhile.

After battling the red shovel and, now, the soft pants, I started to wonder what drives the quirks of childhood. Being that my knowledge of child psychology is limited to what can be learned from Sesame Street, I deduced that…I don’t know.

Nor do I honestly care. Who has time to wonder about these things! I’m too busy searching for red shovels and soft pants with no buttons. Are these signs of something bigger? Um. I’m not going to dwell on that too long. My plan is simple. I’m guessing since my oldest grew out of the red shovel, my youngest will grow out of his soft pants.

And, when he does, I’m not replacing them. It’s hard pants from that point on. Which may lead to years of therapy from someone who will tell my children that all of their problems point back to one of three things:

Red shovels and soft pants. And, of course, buttons.