I Can't Do That Right Now

These words come from my son lately. They are his new defense . . . his new way of explaining why he needs to stick to his routine as opposed to veer from familiarity . . . or why he can't seem to find the means to add something new into his wardrobe.
Last week, I bought him a new pair of jeans in an effort to add a pair that wasn't stained with paint from last year's Art class or too short from last year's growth to be acceptable.
He won't wear them. He won't even try them on.

"I can't do that right now." These are the words I heard last week, last night and this morning when I asked if he would try them on so I know if they're going to be long enough (or if I need to take them back and exchange them for a different size).

The whole delay is my fault. I know better than to try new things with him - especially where clothes are concerned. I know that once I (he) finds something that works for him I should never attempt to add an alternative or change it - but I did. For some reason I believed I had to. He was growing and my wallet was shrinking so it was time for a new purchasing framework. I bought a different manufacturer of jeans in an effort to save $25. At this point, it would be worth the $25 I saved to have him in a pair of jeans that didn't terminally appear as though they were just exhumed from the depths of the laundry basket or the gutter. At this point, I'd pay $25 if I didn't have to hear, "I can't do that right now."

This morning there were no clean jeans; only the new pair still with the tags on them. I offered them as a plausible alternative knowing that there was none it only existed in my twisted mind. His response was, "I don't know if I'm going to like them" and that said it all.
It told me that school was one place where comfort really is essential because so much that's uncomfortable is going on he can't afford to give any up to clothing issues. And you know how new things are. Sometimes when you put them on they feel great just because they're different and after you wear them a while you realize that some aspect of their construction is irritating the crap out of you and there's not a thing you can do about it but undress - which isn't at all appropriate.
He was right to make this choice. He was completely correct to acknowledge his concerns and he is still right wait for a time when he has the wherewith all to deal with the issues that a new pair of jeans potentially contains without having to try and balance the demands of a new school year, new classes, new teachers and new subjects.
He doesn't care that he has a small wardrobe and he doesn't care if his peers see him in the same clothes twice in one week. He honestly doesn't care so long as he's comfortable.

I wish I had that type of self-awareness. I don't. I just accept that I have to do things that I don't want to. I blindly accept all of them simultaneously and in total. All of them - big and small. Whether it's eating what's on my plate or working at a job that is miserably unsatisfying on multiple levels or wearing uncomfortable clothing. It's what I do. I wish that I had learned to say, "I can't do that right now" at some point in my life, but it was never an option. I think I would be happier if I were just a little bit selfish on a few occasions. I know my feet would be happier if I threw out that one pair of shoes that really hurt after about 30 minutes of wear and I know I would feel better if I didn't try to eat yogurt from time to time believing for some reason that it's supposed to be good for me when it typically leaves me feeling nauseous, but I won't. I'm stuck with the shoes and the containers of yogurt that sit in my fridge - all of it.
 . . . not ot mention the drawer full of jeans and only two or three pair that I actually wear.