It’s been a bit since I wrote about my favorite topic, Mount Washmore. (Where is that sarcasm font?) Just when I think I’ve scaled the face of that mighty mountain, a new summit appears.
Anyway, clothing can be a hot topic around here. I often wonder why on earth I purchase more that just adds to my already oversized loads. Sigh. And yet… I just buy more.
Ray’s command has planned a super fun Christmas party for the whole family. (No sarcasm font needed.) It will be at Ice Palace. This is the ONLY cold place on my little island. It is FREEZING in there. A certain boy in my house has not a single pair of pants. Oh wait! Did I mention it’s an ugly sweater party? Did I mention all my sweaters are in storage…on the mainland? Shopping it is!
So there’s that… There is also a child in my house that is extremely hard to buy for. Well, there is more than one of those but the one I’m talking about is hard to buy for because of her size. She’s 12. A few weeks ago I took her 7-year old sister to soccer pictures and a soccer game. When the rest of the family arrived, the 12-year old was wearing the 7-year old’s pants. Not. Even. Kidding.
Today I was talking to a friend and she reminded me of a time Hanan was about 3, standing in a pew at church singing her little heart out when her skirt slipped right off. I wish I had that problem! Her tiny little waist can fit a size 7. She’s less that 1/4 inch shorter than Arleigh… Who wears a 14. How am I supposed to purchase clothes?
Adding to my laundry drama is that all things eighties are back in style. Arleigh decided to cut off some jeans and bleach them. Girlfriend had her cheese grater out acid washing those buggers. She did a good job. Hanan decided it was her turn. She wanted some Daisy Dukes I guess. Before I knew it, she had a pair of shorts with a sewn cuff, the cuff was off and those babies were cute. Except… I have to buy her smaller sizes to fit that tee-niny waist. So those already too short in this mama’s eyes shorts were way too freaking short. No problem, leggings underneath and off to school she went.
I have a hard enough time knowing what clothes go into which kid’s pile as I’m sorting laundry. Add to it the fact that the girls trade clothes with neighbors and I’m totally screwed. There are clothes all over my house. I don’t know where it all comes from. I feel like I should add a hashtag first world problems.
I also have a dog that steals clothes and tries to bury them in the backyard. Her favorite…dirty panties. So gross. The dirt here is red. I’m constantly finding dirty red dirt caked panties. Yesterday I found a pair on inside out jeans and panties still in them on the lanai. Words can not do that justice.