Two years ago, I sorted through my clothing and filled two huge Rubbermaid containers with clothes to donate. Then they sat in the basement. And sat. And sat.

Three months ago, I had The Boy carry them upstairs so I could call someone to come pick them up. I figured they wouldn’t question the pick up since I was 43 months pregnant.

And they sat in our entryway.

The issue was that to get a Tuesday pick up you needed call when the place was open. On Thursday. Or Friday. Or Saturday. When did I remember? On Tuesday.

So, in July, The Boy’s mom came to visit. She’s not much of a sit around and watch TV type person so she decided to get rid of the clothes. 

And she had help.

Of course.

Obi thought the clothes made a great sleeping spot.

Oliver agreed.


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