Once upon a time, I was cruising the thrift store for kids' clothes. I spied a sweater that was perfect. It was a size or two too big for him. It was soft and warm. It was a lovely shade of charcoal gray. The best feature was the bright red fire engine that wrapped around the sweater from front to back. It was fabulous.
He wore it constantly. He was so sad anytime it was in the wash. It was far and away his favorite article of clothing. And I have to admit. . . I loved it too. I loved how soft he was wearing it. I loved how the gray complimented his lovely olive skin. I loved the manly fire truck. I especially loved how excited he was when I would say, "Time to get dressed. . . I have your FIRETRUCK SWEATER!"
Then he outgrew it. I stealthily stuck it in with some things to go to his younger cousin. I hoped that he wouldn't notice it was gone or see his cousin wear it and get upset.
One day, not so long ago, we were cruising a different thrift store for kids' clothes. We hadn't set out to go to the thrift store that night, but something told me that tonight was a good night to browse and we were right next door anyway.
While walking through the kids' clothing, I spied a sweater that looked about the right size for him. I checked the tag without looking too closely at the garment. It was a size or two too large. Perfect. It felt soft in my hands. Then I took a good look at it. The lovely charcoal gray, the bright red fire engine wrapping around it from front to back- it was all there.
"Look at this!" I exclaimed.
"Don't we already have that?" my husband asked. I explained to him that it had been outgrown and that the one I was holding up was a bigger size.
Then he saw it.
"MY FIRETRUCK SWEATER!" The look of sheer joy in his chocolate eyes was enough to melt this mother's heart.
I've never been happier that I followed my gut and cruised a thrift store.