musical shirts

So I'm starting to appreciate what mom has gone through all these years--that is, in terms of shopping. Although neither of us are very good at it (i.e. we primarily look and try on but rarely buy; it drives dad nuts), mom has always had an eye out for me. I can see her in the dressing room trying on pants, estimating that if they drag on the floor about five inches and sit below the belly button by one, that they just might fit me.

Now I know what she's gone through.

Mom simply wanted a few new shirts. So yesterday I found myself in Ross with a huge cart of shirts and pants. I took them in in batches of eight and did a musical chairs of sorts articles of clothing: Red shirt on, gray sweat pants on. Take off gray sweat pants, put on brown pants. Take off red shirt, put on black shirt. Take off brown pants, put on short purple ones (take those off, quick!).

Really, it wasn't that bad (truth be told, I kind of enjoyed it). And I'm happy to report that of the twelve items I took home to mom, she kept five. That, my dear friends, should be considered a great accomplishment.

Valarie