Welcome to the fabulous and sometimes insane life
of a working mother who is trying hard not to
let her whole existence be determined by her
cute little munchkins, yet continues to be drawn
in by the adorable and sometimes annoying tiny people!

Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Clothing Wars Begin


   The Clothing Wars Begin
     I remember fighting with my sister about clothes from the time she finally hit middle school and I could fit into her clothes and, likewise, she could fit into mine. This was the starting point for epic wars in our household. I am not sure we ever fought about anything, as much as we fought about clothes. If only we had worked out and abided by some sort of treaty, i.e. asking before you wear or you can wear everything except for this section. Then I think our whole family could have been spared the destruction that followed after someone was discovered wearing another someone's favorite shirt. 
       I mean think of the benefits for all, including the money strapped parents, when you had not one wardrobe to choose from but two or further down the road in our house 3 wardrobes (unless this munchkin comes out with something swinging between its legs;)
      Because I was blessed with a sister, and I do consider it a blessing now because there is nothing like the relationship that I have with her, I understand the clothing wars. I just thought we had a little more time before they were declared in our household. I mean really who ever heard of a 3 year old and 6 year old fighting over clothes. You don't even wear the same size people!!!
      So this morning when my youngest brought in a sweater that was accidentally hung in the wrong closet by my dear sweet hubby who does all the laundry I drew from my past experience and sensed a storm brewing. She wanted to know why she didn't have a "boootifull" sweater like that. We told her that she would one day and to please go hang it in her sisters closet. And so the drama ensued...
      She stomped her cute little self down the hallway and was quiet for sometime, which as any good mother knows is not always a good thing. Soon we began to hear some sort of singing coming from the back. At first, it wasn't loud enough or significant enough for us to pay attention to. But as it went on, we realized, with a laugh, that it wasn't singing but chanting. Chanting that was coming from inside the oldest munchkin's closet. Chanting of the same line over and over again. The line that we did not think we would hear for at least another 10 years:
                    Aubeee's got more bootiful clothes.
                    Aubeee's got more bootiful clothes.
                    Aubeee's got more bootiful clothes.
And so the clothing wars begin at the Hill house!

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