Seduction at the Thrift Store.

The thrift store was having a 98-cent sale, so I had to go and fight the crowds. Rose NEEDED some tops for winter.

I know what you're saying. You're going, "Wow, Mrs. C. Why are you going to go spend $10 on girly-looking items when you can have the kid wear a muddy, stained shirt decorated with a dinosaur skeleton and some grape juice for absolutely free?" But you see, I've noticed that when I dress the girl up like that, that she gets treated differently.

By differently, I mean "like every other boy in the family." D will come home and say hello to all the BOYS. Instead of saying, "Hi, Woodjie! Hi, Girlie!" he'll go, "Hi, Woodjie! Hi... Boy-ie! Well, but you look like a boy today, kid." Then he wouldn't ask, "Where Pretty-Pretty gooooo? Where's a Pretty-Pretty?" He'd just walk away after giving her a noogie like the other boys. And we just can't have that. Little Miss Pretty-Pretty deserves better, you see.

D says that if only I would "coordinate" the outfits properly, he wouldn't make that sort of mistake. I imagine he thinks that the grungy "bears playing football" shirt with blue and orange stripes goes with one of her pink pants? No? Ok, what does it go with? Not the leopard-skin looking stuff. Not the red things with flowers on them. Nor the purple velour pants with the ruffles.

Just Woodjie's old jeans. Yeah, that goes together... but you're back at square one that way.

So, the girl can wear several of Woodjie's old jeans and shorts if I sew little girlie embellishments on them so that they are appropriately sissified. But they need proper shirts to go with. I saw a really innnteresting T-shirt at the thrift store today that was a likely candidate. It was pink and had a little boy ruffian pictured on it with the words, "Tough Guys Wear Pink" across the top. I thought about getting it for Rose as a political statement, but then I thought D would probably have a fit, or at least get rid of the shirt.

I bought some pink zippy sleepers and assorted fleecy tops for her to wear this winter. While I was there, I was also instructed to look for leather material or leather belts. D likes leatherworking, you see, and he can cut off the hardware and re-use it, or even cut belts into smaller sections and make bracelets. So, if I saw good belts or leather jackets, I was supposed to get these and bring them home. I brought home two jackets.

One, I found out later from D, is not real leather. Well, it sure felt like leather, and it was worn enough that it no longer had any leather smell. (Um, maybe because it wasn't real leather in the first place? Ok.) This coat will do for the little girl when she gets older, though I think it is a little out of fashion. I'm not one to talk if I dress the kid in prairie dresses, though.

The other jacket was hideous. Remember the Michael Jackson leather coat look in the 80's? This coat was red and black and looked like that. I figured D would tear it up and use it for practice sewing or scrap. Otherwise the bold label reading, "Last Woman on Earth: The Sin of Seduction" on the inside would be a bit off-putting. D took a look at this 98-cent monstrosity and told me not only is it not leather, but did you read what it says inside here on the label? You did?

And of course, he's making fun of me all day for spending 98 cents on the Sin of Seduction. I put the stupid "Last Woman on Earth: The Sin of Seduction" coat back into the plastic bag and tied a knot in it so that D would stop flinging it around the room and talking about how he's feeling seduced. Now the bag is in the car for D to take back to the thrift store next time he goes. But I think he is having too much fun discussing Seduction at the Thrift Store, and do I want to see the bag in his car? It's in the back seat. Heh-heh. *nudge*

I am never going to live this down.