My son came home from school yesterday and paused at the door. I found him hunched over and examining his shoe. The sole was half detached, the other shoe was coming apart at the toe, and both were ripped inside. The boy is hard on shoes. Asked why he didn’t let me know the shape these shoes were in, he replied, “They weren’t that bad!” I hope that it’s been firmly established that he needs to let me know when the first hole starts so we can get a pair to slide into place when the old ones fall to pieces.
Fast forward an hour to picking up DD1 after school. She stayed late to work on a painting and to speak with another teacher about a project. The painting is being done with oil paints, which apparently take days to dry. She very carefully put the 2 foot by 4 foot canvas in the back (edges of the canvas are painted as well), then got in front. That’s when I saw her sleeve. Her formerly white coat had a large splotch of navy paint on it. Later inspection showed small streaks on the back of her hood. She is certainly my daughter.
After dinner these two loaded into the car and we went shopping. Fortunately there are still winter coats to be found, although the inventory is dwindling. I had forgotten that I had an electronic coupon which pulled $15 off of my son’s shoes, and we got out of the store paying $50 for both the coat and the shoes. DD1 is under orders not to wear the new coat until next season (except for a scholarship competition coming up). She’s not finished with the painting, so I want to protect the new coat. It’s been a while since there was paint on the majority of her clothing.
The worst of the paint-on-clothing period was junior high, which made DD2 incredibly happy. It was the time period when she got the most new clothing vs. hand-me-downs.
It’s hard to be frugal when you live with an artist.