Shirts

We are continuing to make progress on our war against stuff. On Saturday the kids and I folded several loads of laundry. Then, instead of sending them with their own apparel to put away, I sat down with each child and went through every item in their basket and drawers.

Between hand-me-downs, new school clothes, and the fact that most of his shirts still fit from last year, we discovered that Cooper had twenty short-sleeved shirts in his drawer. Twenty! That's not even counting the eight long-sleeved shirts, five undershirts, or two polo shirts. That is too many shirts! We thinned the pack to a slightly more respectable thirteen.

We've also been gathering all of the stuff from other parts of the house that doesn't have an assigned spot yet. The floor next to my side of the bed is a mass of canvas bags, over-flowing magazine holders, and messy flip-top bins. This means the rest of the house is starting to look like a home rather than an episode of Hoarders.

After we finished The Great Clothing Purge on Saturday, we piled into the van for a fun lunch at Ikea. (Sadly, it'll be the last Ikea lunch for a while. They've raised their prices without improving their quality.) As we munched on Swedish meatballs, we discussed whether or not we needed a certain piece of furniture. My heart swelled with maternal pride as Peter uttered the words, "I don't really think we need anymore stuff."

Well said, my boy, well said.