Thursday, January 20, 2011

Hand-Me-Downs

I'm the oldest of four kids and didn’t have any close-by cousins. Growing up, I didn’t personally receive a lot of hand-me-downs. Somehow I instinctively knew, even at a young age, that was probably a very good thing!

Life has a way of teaching us lessons we need to learn—and they can come at any time. I became the person receiving hand-me-downs when my daughter landed in high school. Not so much her clothes or shoes. (TLC has always weighed significantly less than me and is a little bit taller. I also have much bigger feet. Actually, I gained a shoe size that never shrunk back to normal while pregnant with her. Thank you, Doll.) But I do still own and wear a Ralph Lauren jean jacket I bought for her when she was in the 8th grade. That would make it over 14 years old. I inherited it when she was a junior. It’s one of my favorite go-to “uniforms.” Eleven years later, I can’t imagine my wardrobe without it. It’s gotten pretty frayed over time, which I think would be “cool” for someone younger. It seems like I’m too old and too “fluffy” to wear anything frayed, torn or shabby. However, for my devotion to this jacket, I’ll just accept that I’m probably being judged as trying to look younger than I am. Oh, well. Such is life.

Here are some of the other things I have inherited from TLC to date: a couple of cell phones; jewelry; household trinkets; kitchen paraphernalia; picture frames; artwork—in many forms; books; pillows; CDs and DVDs; a vehicle and a cat.  Yep.  A cat.

Let me go into a little detail about a few of these things:

The cell phones. Who but a Mom would be willing to take an older model cell phone so their child could have the newest/latest/greatest model? My husband laughed at me the first time I did this. I just smiled. I'll never even know how to work the old hand-me-down cell phones, so, in the end, what difference does it really make what I have, as long as I do have one?

The jewelry. Funny thing about those many pairs of earrings I’ve been given by TLC—I am fairly certain I paid for most of them. I’m not going to lie: I LOVE it when she sees me with one of her old pairs on and hints she’d like them back. Uh, nope. Too bad, so sad.

The vehicle: When TLC graduated from college and moved to the Big City for her first “Crud, I’m an adult—now I have to (or at least try to) pay for everything!” job, she figured out how she could afford a new car. The problem was what to do with her perfectly good Jeep. Enter Mom—to the rescue. I was driving a truck at the time. In Texas, one of the easiest vehicles to sell is a truck. In fact, my husband put a For Sale sign on mine one morning at 8:00 and it was sold by 9:00. I drove the Jeep for over a year. Loved it, actually, almost as much as TLC loved her new little car. But, alas, living in the country, we once again needed a truck. I said au revoir to my hand-me-down Jeep.

The cat: The most recent hand-me-down I’ve received from TLC is a cat named Mortimer. Morty had been living with her hubby until they bought a house and moved in together. TLC soon discovered that this cat was growing increasingly bored with each passing day. When they’d get home from work, Morty, who had apparently slept all afternoon, would come alive and drive them bananas. He was also beginning to tear up furniture. He was what some might call “certifiable.” We had two cats when we moved to the country, but one unexpectedly passed away five years ago, so our Cobbler Kitty needed a new companion. I was actually the one who suggested TLC “loan” us Morty. I sincerely believed he would be happy with us. TLC was thrilled and Morty adjusted in less than a month. He is no longer bonkers—just a tad nutty. We adore him. He seems to really like us. TLC and her hubby get to see him when they come for a visit. Everyone wins!

image via TLC
the Lion King
or
where's Morty Waldo

When I look back on TLC’s hand-me-downs, Morty is definitely the VERY BEST! However, I have lovingly, but firmly, informed TLC this won’t work with any future children. LOL.

ta-ta for now . . .

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