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Burgundy Britches

That our son would be wearing burgundy shorts with a yellow shirt while trying on women’s jewelry at the Supermall wasn’t the original plan.  Shopping.  Peaceful shopping was. 

Only in the check-out line at the second store, our son confessed he’d just peed his pants.  And no small trickle.  Which sent my husband a 1/4 mile to the van with my son waddling behind him, his legs in a wet “V.”  By which time my phone rang at the register and my husband reported that there were no back-up britches in the van and could I hurry and buy some.  They’d be waiting.

Which led directly to the burgundy shorts.  Which were on sale.  And which I ran out to the van in the rain.

The jewelry, though, I have yet to understand.

Only to know that it makes a little boy happy…when he’s wearing the whole display. 

But then there’s this.  Which should have an explanation…but doesn’t.  Only that he was willing to abandon his tennis shoes for these and head out the store.

Until he saw these.  Which couldn’t look better with that sock.  Or them burgundy britches. 

And which is about all I have to say.

On the subject of peaceful shopping.


One Response to “Burgundy Britches”

  1. Sarah says:

    If I were going to wear shoes that killed my spine I would only wear the shoes he picked out. Your son has great taste

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