mom cooties

Every day, I have been trying to clean out a little of the “stuff” that clutters our basement and garage. I can’t do anything with Doug’s treasures (“I might need that clothing from the 80s or old junk mail”) so it has primarily been my old clothes and the children’s stuff being tossed. I have accepted that I will never fit in my old size 4 stuff again, so I pulled out the best pieces and put the rest in my ‘giveaway’ pile. Sarah turned her nose up at every single designer label piece of clothing. According to Sarah, they are not even good enough to take the sewing machine and transform. She would much rather have more Old Navy clothes. Grrr. If the shoe was on the other foot, I would love size 8 (shut up, I had 5 children) hand-me-downs. Until I find my shirts that I packed away when I was pregnant with Amy, I have exactly 4 shirts to wear and Evan makes sure to poop one at least one of them every day. I wonder if anyone at bible school will notice the words ‘got munchies’ on my favorite Scooby shirt? I used to love raiding my mother’s closet. I would practice walking in all of her high heels and pose in the mirror with her shawl and scarves tied into halters and sarongs. I thought my mother had glamorous clothes hidden in her closet, not being worn. Apparently my clothes just have cooties.

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