he didn't like the pumas, he didn't like the Adidas or converse. he wanted the vans. I guess vans are cool or something, but those canvas shoes, with white soles look like a goddamm canvas for my daughter.
I'm screaming on the inside and I hit the order button. confirmed. there is no turning back, because I'm one of those lazy people that never return anything.
and then a lightbulb goes off. I pick out clothes for all of my family. ones that I think are the best and whatnot.. and do you know what happens?
I come home to a baby in a tank top and a diaper, a fiancé in a white tshirt, a pair of jorts and Adidas flip flops, and a 14 year old who has probably been wearing the same damn tshirt and cargo shorts for 3 days.
I think I'm giving up, guys. I buy my fiancé a pair of sanuks that have turned into "taking out the trash" shoes, and heaven forbid my daughter has to wear tennis shoes because we don't have a match for the damn 20+ pairs of socks we have bought her.
my stepson is like a vampire most days, hiding in dark corners with his tablet and lime green headphones. probably only peeling of his underwear on wash days as a formality. I swear he never changes his towel in his bathroom. it's always the same blue towel--im just too scared to check it.
I shop sales and weekly ads looking for new shorts for trin but he's declared that "only shorts happen when good pants have to die." so he only gets a new pair of shorts when he's somehow destroyed a pair of pants. we go through the motions of him putting them on and me circling him with scissors to get the right length. and picking up all the denim fabric from the carpet.
bam. trin has his summer shorts. Zane has his khaki cargos, and little rae just has on whatever is clean and at the top of her dresser.
I love my family. I love my horribly dressed family.
No comments:
Post a Comment