Anyone with small children knows that seasonal transitions are a huge pain in the taint. It's finally gotten colder, and the kids' bureaus are sadly finite, so you have to switch out all the too-small and too-thin for the long-sleeved and full-legged. And you also have to find those pesky winter coats, because making your kid walk to school in five layers and a windbreaker against the 40° chill can get onerous after a while.
[We later found those coats in the last place we thought of looking ... the hall closet. With the rest of the coats.]
My wife and I knew that, at some point, we had put away piles of 3T winter clothes for TwoBert to inherit. We also knew that if we didn't find them soon we'd have to -- shudder -- buy new ones. This would have bothered me on a billion levels, mainly because we had the clothes. We had them. We slaughtered an afternoon stocking our little anthill while the grasshoppers grass-hopped gaily about, and now it's winter, and we're starving. Oh, the indignity of it.
Cut to this afternoon, when my wife was moving Robert's platform bed in her personal quest to re-paint the Bert Sanctuary. And lo, there it was, behind the drawers: the mother lode of hand-me-downs and hand-me-ups and hand-me-overs for TwoBert to snuggle in for many months ahead! Add that to the pile of 6/7 jeans and button-downs Robert gratefully inherited from his cousin, and you've got two greatly enhanced and frost-appropriate wardrobes for the low, low price of ... bupkis. And once again, Black Friday gets the reaction it deserves.
