WHERE'S THE CHICKEN?

I got out the winter clothes last week. It was a much easier process now that everyone's in school, because I can do it while they are gone. Nobody cried because I tossed their favorite (too-small) shirt in the Goodwill pile. Nobody ran around trying on Christmas dresses and sweaters and then throwing them down, mixing up my sorted piles.

Getting out the seasonal clothes is kind of an involved process. I have to dig out all the boxes from under the stairs, go through everything in them, pull out the stuff for the upcoming season that looks like it might fit somebody this year, and repack everything else. Then I have to wash everything I pulled out, since it's wrinkled from being packed, and put it all away (this takes a few days, until I get it all run through the washer and dryer--not that there is all that much of it, really, but it gets added to the piles of stuff already needing to be washed).

And I have to go through the current stuff that the kids have been wearing, to sort out things that are too small for anyone to wear ever again, or that have stains/holes, and send those items to either Goodwill or the rag bag. And I have to put the clothes that might still fit someone next year back into the boxes under the stairs.

But it was easier this year. School is helping.

What was my point? Oh, yeah. Some of the winter clothes are, inevitably, fancy black velvet Christmas dress type stuff. Actually, we have more of this stuff than we do of the useful things like warm pajamas and jeans, because it doesn't get worn out.

Little girls love fancy dresses, at least ours do. So, I have to fight with the five- and six-year-olds and try to keep the velvet off their bodies until it's decently into winter. Mid-September just doesn't seem like the right time of year to wear a black dress with snowmen and Christmas trees around the hem to school. Especially since the only shoes they have to wear with a dress right now are pink sandals.

I removed a winter dress from Francie's body this morning as she wailed. "But when can I wear it, when?"

I said, "After Thanksgiving."

Francie: "Is it Thanksgiving already? Where's the chicken?"

Kids.