This weekend we did something that all family's dread.
I had put it off long enough, but finally marched up those stairs. It had to be done!
I knew it and they knew it.
And it was going to be horrible.
My pitiful children followed behind me with garbage bags in hand. We were going to be at this for hours, days even.
Yes... the time had come to clean out their closets. Oh, the horror!
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The annual cleaning out of the closets is a precursor to school clothes shopping. And with only one weekend left before school started, and three closets to purge, I was cutting it close.
How my children accumulate masses of clothes is beyond me. But they do. And by the end of summer, these clothes can be found stuffed in random drawers, under their bed, on top of the armoire, in each other's rooms, on the floor and sometimes, just sometimes, in their actual closets.
Hundreds of socks in all sizes and colors are dumped in the hall as we try to find pairs. Jeans and skirts they forgot they bought are found. And usually I'll find at least five items belonging to my husband and I.
"So that's where my yoga pants are! In Neill's closet, why of course!"
We toiled for hours and with each passing hour I become more and more irritable.
"This still has the tag on it! Why do you have five of the same blue Polos? This is my belt!"
"No, I'm not giving this away because it's ugly. When you asked me to spend $30 on it, it wasn't ugly!"
"Yes, if it doesn't fit Madison, then it moves to your closet. That's the role of the younger sister. She wears hand-me-downs. Look it up."
Back and forth. Back and forth. We carry on for hours.
Sometimes they try to escape and I'll turn to find one gone. I wouldn't notice if not for the fact their sibling immediately outs them.
"Bring me more garbage bags," I yell to the one now hiding downstairs.
Drawer by drawer, closet by closet, we fill bags to the brim with too short pajama pants, mustard-stained polos, out-of-style cargo shorts and shoes whose match is long gone.
We also reorganize, color code and finally see the bottom of everyone's closet.
Why yes... the carpet is still there!
And at the end of the day we drag bag after bag downstairs and then proceed to pass out from exhaustion.
Rest up. Tomorrow we shop for school supplies.
Oh, the horror!
To read more of Angel and Becky's columns go to www.wilsonlivingmagazine.com.