I made Danny get dressed-up to pose for his "First Day of School" photographs. He looks pleased, eh?
A pressed shirt just says you aren't really serious about learning. All the smartest fellows wear rumpled shirts, and look slightly moth-eaten. Haircuts are frivolous as well.
Someday, his children will be amused by these, as he was amused by my first day of school photographs, which follow.
Notice anything strange about this photo? (Other than my mother actually got up off of the plastic covered sofa to walk me across the street, and put me on the bus? Where the hell was my sister, I mean, she always got stuck doing the real parenting. Maybe she took the picture).
Take a look at how I was dressed-oh yes, adorable... not for September in Chicago. Now look at how my mother was dressed. Yeah, I'll be that first day of Kindy was great in a scratchy wool skirt, and long sleeves.
Amazingly, I'm still wearing the same hairstyle. I'm kind of partial to knee socks as well.
Those damn shoes. She bought me the same pair, year after year (because they matched everything!) when all I really desired was a pair of loafers. I suppose I'm a better person today for having learned to tie my shoes at six, but how I longed for a pair of slip-on shoes, in oxblood or black. 
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