Friday, January 28, 2011

Clothes Shopping Leads to Arsenal Shopping

Each and every day, there are 2 things my kids remind me of:

  1. I'm too young for this stuff, seriously, and 
  2. I'm going to need an arsenal here soon. 
Yesterday I took the kids clothes shopping. We are low on cash right now, and after going through their drawers and seeing that I had just about an entire garbage bag of clothes they no longer fit into, I opted to head to one of those places that gives you trade in value on your old clothes. So, as the woman is going through our bag of clothes (which I had freshly laundered and gone over with a fine tooth comb to make sure there were no stains, holes, etc), the kids go running through the store to find new additions to their wardrobe. At the moment, my children are between sizes, meaning, their waists are one size, but the length in that size isn't quite long enough (their daddy is 6'3"). So, we decided to buy larger clothes to cover the length problem, and just use belts religiously. 

Three pairs of pants, a hoodie, and three shirts each later, the woman calls me to the counter with her 'offer'. $13.50. Seriously??? That's it? Then I see that she only decided that about 1/4 of what I brought in was profitable to them. So, I start the talk with her- she took none of my son's shorts, which had only been worn maybe 4 times each, and it's freaking Arizona, so you can't tell me it's because it's winter outside- it's still 70 degrees during the day. She goes on to tell me that my kids' clothes were 'worn', and I argue that I not only went through them twice, checking everything, but that it's a second hand store; people don't go there for brand new clothes. Then I bring to her attention that the size of my son's clothing I was bringing in were 5s, and they seriously lacked size 5s on the rack. Nothing would convince her to take a second look, so I took my $13.50, thinned the new clothes my kids had picked out down to 2 pairs of pants each, the hoodies, and 2 shirts each, and ended up spending $30 out of pocket...

That's when they tell me they just opened up another store about 10 minutes away. Oh, really? To shorten the story a little, yes, I headed to that store with my bags of clothes, got $10 more in trade in value from the clothes the other lady wouldn't take, got my kids another pair of pants and shirt each, and left with a laugh at my sneakiness. I got you in the end, you stupid second hand clothing chain of stores....

So, we get home, and the fashion show started. The kids would disappear for a few, then pop into the living room in one of their new outfits. That's when the first realization from above hit me. My kids looked so grown up; they aren't my babies anymore. I mean, they'll always be my babies, but you know what I mean. My son had picked out some plaid button up shirts- oh my goodness how mature he looked. He's my youngest; I can not possibly be his mother. No, some 40 or 50 year old is his mother- has to be. But not me. I just turned 30. Someone, please make it stop...

Then my daughter walked out. I had allowed her to buy skinny jeans (which I abhor, but she bought them in a larger size, so they weren't so 'skinny'), and she had picked out this button up shirt/ vest all in one combo. Oh hell no. She looked 15, and she's not even going to be 9 for another month and a half. So, as the realization of how mature my kids look and how they've lost every ounce of their baby-ness is still hitting me, that's when I realized I am going to need an arsenal if I'm going to be raising her as a single mom. My daughter is gorgeous, there really isn't any other way to put it. But seeing her in these hip outfits, that I approved nonetheless (so you know she doesn't look like a prostitot- I'm very overprotective of my kids), I truly saw just how beautiful she is, and how much of a pain in the ass that's gonna be for me in the future. Boys knocking on the door, calling her up, wanting to date her in a few years. No, NO, NO!!! I am too young for this, damnit, and I don't even own a gun, not a big fan of them period, but it's gonna be the only way I can deal with this. I'll be the crazy mom standing on the front porch with a shotgun (empty of course) screaming, 'You stay away from my daughter, you little STD monkey who wants to try and get her pregnant,' if that's what I need to be. 

Deep down inside, it makes me wish I had ugly kids. (Yep, I just said that.) I push that horrible thought deeper down into the recesses of my soul so the light of day doesn't hit it, but seriously, if I had ugly kids, I wouldn't have to worry about this...





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6 comments:

  1. man that's awesome. I'm planning on answering the door with a shot gun when the boys are older... lol.

    I can't believe that second hand lady... wow.. ridiculous!

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  2. i remember my parents answering the door once acting like they couldnt speak english and triied to confuse this poor guuy! lol!

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  3. Love your blog, you continuously crack me up so I am giving you an award. It is sitting on my site waiting for you:)

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  4. My boy is only 6 y/o and I'm already freaking out! He had some crush on a little classmate in Kindergarten (last year) and I found myself getting wildly upset! Then I go through this "bi-polar" phase where I just get super depressed.

    Today: Carry me, Mommy
    Tomorrow: Mom, this is Jessica ...

    *sigh*

    Great blog! =D
    (http://www.polymerclaysnails.com)

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  5. Ah, they grow up quick. I remember becoming a teen and I feel so sorry for my Mum now!
    I've given you a Versatile Blogger Award! xxx

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  6. Yeah I did that too, the taking of lots of great shit to a children's resale clothing and odds and ends store before I left the US.

    It was a total waste of my time, the collection and storage of the clothes and fun toys since her birth, the organizing and finding all coordinating pieces with their main outfits.

    I've never gone ballistic on customer service like employees, I usually leave that up to my mother. But that day, I could have quite cheerfully smashed their heads into the counter over and over, singing 'oodelally golly what a day'.

    You're a funny gal.

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