52 Weeks of Us

52 of Him: Thirteen

I believe there is a special place in hell reserved for children’s gloves.  When I try to get his little fingers in all the proper holes, it’s like I’m trying to do an origami puzzle.  We’ve got some mittens, but he’s already figured out that the gloves mean he can still use his hands as normally as possible.  I offered up the mittens the other day when we went out, but no, he had to wear the ones “with the fingers.”

And they keep going missing.  Sometimes they turn up sometimes not.  Some have been lost and forgotten at school, others likely hiding out having a party with all the lost socks.  As I went out in search of replacement gloves for those that went missing, I discovered that, unbelievably, you cannot find children’s gloves at the shops in the middle of February.  They’ve already cleared them out to make room for shorts and swimwear.

So this is all we’ve got left.  My son walks around in a kaleidoscope of unmatching knitwear.

Previous Post Next Post

You Might Also Like

No Comments

Leave a Reply