March 27, 2010

The T-Shirtpalooza

I am a self-admitted t-shirt addict. And despite the fact that I live in Minnesota where it is sub-zero for the majority of the year, I am absolutely obsessed with short-sleeved shirts. My collection has grown over the years, beginning during my high school days working as a slave to the man at Old Navy, and it now takes up an obscene amount of room in my closet.

And now that it's nearly spring and my arms won't turn into popsicles when I decide to wear short sleeves, it's time to break them out once again. Let the rejoicing ensue.

I recently went through my piles of t-shirts looking for a few of my old favorites when I realized something. My shirts aren't just meaningless articles of clothing which keep people from gawking at my post-baby belly, they tell a story of my life over the last few years...

There is the ABOUT SOMETHING t-shirt (and I must credit my sister with this nickname). Apparently, I went through a faze in college where all of my shirts had to be about something, be it a cause, a company, etc.

There is the SECOND-HAND t-shirt, the type that I have borrowed or was given from friends. Some of which I have kept... others made their way straight into the garbage can along with certain memories.

There is the BIG t-shirt, otherwise known as my husband's shirts. Not so big on him and normally too big on me. Not any too large, though, when I was sporting a colossal baby belly. Incidentally, Jonathan has since reclaimed his shirts.

And finally, there is the NEW BODY t-shirt. You know, the kind that hides those certain places where having a baby ravaged my body, but still accentuates my very toned arms (the advantage to lifting a heavy baby all day long).

So in honor of this ever-growing, behemothic collection of shirts, I bid you all good night. And ask if you would like to go t-shirt shopping with me in the morning?

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