My Blessed Shirts

After reading comments made by other bloggeritas about my goofy thumbs-up picture, I took another look at it. I do that thumbs-up for the sake of my children because it's sometimes the only way I can get my teenager to communicate with me. "God Mom! You are such a nurd!" "Stop doing that!" "Please tell me you don't do that in public!" Mwaa-haaa-haaaa... why yes my little pretty, I do! Have you seen my Blahg?

So I'm looking at the geekilicious photo and noticed another thing. My purple shirt. I'm wearing it even as I type. I've had it for about 15 years now. It's a size 2x so it's not form-fitting and I have room to move around. My youngest used to think it was scary because it has a forest behind the lettering with trees that somehow look evil (I don't see it). I have three little holes on the front of the shirt, but none that reveal too much yet when my girls are untethered (if you know what I mean). The worst holes are in the underarms, estimated to be about the size of tangerines.

The point is, I can't bear to throw the shirt away. The collar is loose enough after a decade and a half so that if I sleep in the shirt, it doesn't choke me when I flop around at night. I have another one I got from girl scout camp in 1999 that has a better (by better I mean looser) collar. It hasn't held up as well as this one from 1991, but it is also oh-so-comfortable. The shirts aren't exactly a turn-on for my husband but I think he doesn't object too loudly because otherwise I'd be wearing HIS shirts.

I've had to throw other glorious t-shirts away after they become so unfit to wear that even I notice. And I still grieve for them. The Vermont shirt. My old WKMS-FM shirt from college (and my Murray State University shirt). How I miss them.