This afternoon is the Elementary School Winter Concert. I’ll be closing up shop in a little bit to go grab some lunch and then a spot in those horrid bleachers so that I can listen to the angelic performances.
I stopped at the gas station this morning to grab some caffeine. One of the women that works there has a daughter in 4th grade. I asked if her daughter was already for today, and was she all dressed up?
Apparently, she was, in fact, wearing a dress, having spent most of the previous evening trying on 30 different dresses, and 20 different pairs of shoes. Plus, of course, different dresses with different shoe combinations.
Whatever she decided on, I’m sure she’ll be adorable.
It made me grateful, though, for the clothing conversation that we had had at OUR house last night:
Does that white shirt still fit?
I bought crisp white shirts (and ties) for the boys two years ago. They must have been bigger on them at the time than I remember, because the shirts still fit. This is probably the last year the sleeves will be long enough.
Their sartorial sense leaves something to be desired, though.
Joe decided to wear a different shirt to school, bringing the white shirt and tie to change into later. I suggested this to Will, and he must have misunderstood me. He stuck on a black sweatshirt, and then grabbed the white shirt, as if to put it on over top of the black sweatshirt.
I found a plain WHITE t-shirt for him to wear, and he was all set.
And then Joe asked if it would be OK if he just put his white shirt on over the shirt he was wearing. (Which was a dark gray shirt with Black writing on it.)
I found a plain white t-shirt for him, too.