"Did you know that though Labor Day didn't become a federal holiday until 1894, it was first celebrated in New York City on September 5th 1882? Workers celebrated by marching in a parade on Broadway, followed by picnics and fireworks that night. Though it started in New York City and the state of New York was the first legislature to introduce the bill, the first state to recognize Labor Day as a holiday was Oregon on February 21, 1887."

In the bullpen of the BAU two special agents and a technical analyst looked at their co-worker in disbelief.

"What?" Dr. Spencer Reid asked, his gaze moving from Prentiss sitting across from him at her desk, to Garcia leaning on the back of Prentiss' chair, to Morgan who was perched on the edge of Reid's desk.

"Does every conversation have to turn into a history lesson with you?" Morgan asked, only the broad smile on his face softening the words. The co-workers had been discussing what they had done to celebrate Labor Day the day before.

"Sorry," Reid said, looking down at his desk, even as Morgan reached out to muss up the younger agent's hair.

Before anything else could be say, the sound of their supervisor's voice caused all four of them to look in Agent Hotchner's direction.

"Reid, if I get a phone call from the school questioning how I sent my son to school today, I'm blaming you," Hotch said, as he walked over to Reid's desk from the elevator.

"Why? What did I do?" Reid asked, Prentiss and Garcia both smiling at the look of boyish innocence that the young genius wore.

"I've worried about Jack getting some bad influences from a number of places. My workaholic tendencies for one. Or Garcia's eccentric personality rubbing off on him. Or Jack deciding he wants to drive a motorcycle like Morgan when he gets old enough, but never did I think the bad influence would come from you," Hotch said.

"Should I be offended?" Garcia whispered to Prentiss. The raven-haired FBI agent shook her head in response to the tech's light-hearted question.

"I still don't understand what I did," Reid said, still looking up at his supervisor.

"Jack started school today, and surprisingly he was very excited about. We even had to pick his outfit out last night before he went to bed so that he would go to sleep. When I woke him up this morning, he insisted that he was a big boy and could dress himself. As we had picked out the clothes the night before, I didn't see any harm in it, as he wouldn't come down dressed in clashing colors or something."

"What's wrong with clashing colors?" Garcia asked.

Hotch looked at the tech and took in the colorful ensemble of clothes that she was wearing that while most people wouldn't be able to pull off, somehow looked quite natural on the blonde.

"Nothing if you can happen to pull it off. It isn't how I want to send my five-year-old son off to school though," Hotch told her.

"I take it Jack didn't come down dressed in the exact outfit you had helped him picked out the night before?" Prentiss ventured, wanting to know exactly what had happened that morning and not debate fashion choices.

"Not exactly. He had on the shirt and pants we had picked out. I thought things were fine until I went to help him tie his sneakers. Jacks had put on one of his green socks with bulldozers on it, and a black sock with pick-up truck. When I asked him to go upstairs and put on matching socks, he asked me why. I told him that socks come in matching pairs because that's how they are intended to be worn. Jack's response was - 'but Uncle Spencer doesn't wear matching socks.'"

Prentiss, Morgan and Garcia all burst out in laughter. Reid, his face flushing in embarrassment looked down at the top of his desk.

"What could I say in reply to that?" Hotch said, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Don't take fashion tips from Reid," Morgan offered.

"So, Jack went to school with mismatched socks today?" Prentiss asked.

"Yes, only because after ten minutes I couldn't convince him to go up and change them and I didn't want him to be late on his first day of school," Hotch said. "If I get criticized for how I send my son to school dressed though, I swear I'm dragging Reid to that school with me and showing them why my son insisted on wearing mismatched socks," he added before he headed toward the steps and up to his office.

"Watch it Kid, or you might get charged with contributing to the delinquency of a minor," Morgan told his friend, jokingly, getting another round of laughter from the two female agents.

"I think I need more coffee," Reid replied, grabbing his only half empty coffee mug and getting to his feet, leaving three laughing co-workers behind him.