Don’t make me shop with these people


Do you want to know what I enjoy more than clothes shopping for myself?

… That is to say, more than hauling my carcass to some monolithic mecca of commercialism smack in the center of an asphalt plane crowded with cars? More than wandering through crowds of gabby, smelly shoppers and their sticky progeny meandering four abreast at a rate one might compare to plate tectonics? More than perusing aisles crammed with textiles which, regardless of how they look on a mannequin, will transform me into something lumpy and wan in the warped dressing room mirror under fluorescent lighting not fit for a morgue?

Want to know what I enjoy than that?

I enjoy taking my younger son shopping for clothing. That, my friends is a real treat.

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What will YOU be wearing for the Apocalypse?

First day of camp…last day of camp. Five days. One shirt.

I just had to tell my child to change his clothes. He’s not wearing anything inappropriate for a Saturday afternoon of football-watching and Minecraft-playing, but I’m pretty sure he’s had on the same long-sleeved camouflage shirt and cargo pants since I yelled at him to put on something warmer or I wouldn’t let him go trick-or-treating.

Halloween was day before yesterday.

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