The only time we ever got new clothes was on our birthdays and Christmas.
At this point in my life, I totally understand that. I don’t see the point in buying each kid a bunch of new clothes when they’re going to outgrow them in a matter of weeks or months.
I don’t think I really cared all that much about it at the time either.
But, one day, one of the neighbors gave us a gift certificate to K-Mart. (This was back when K-Mart was cool. I still have a soft spot in my heart for K-Mart because of this!) We went on a good ol’ shopping spree.
I got a purple corduroy skirt and purple t-shirt set.
When my parents asked my little brother what he wanted, he said, “Puppy pants.”
He went home with a pack of brand new Snoopy underwear.
I don’t remember what the older boys got.
My dad told this story to some friends a couple of weeks ago, and he said that the next time we went to Prayer Meeting, we all came parading out, so proud of our new clothes. Except for my younger brother. His share of the loot wasn’t something you could really show off.