I'd like to start out this post by saying that I love my mother.
But . . .
when she showed up with a bag full clothes for the kids that she'd gotten while garage saleing and within its contents was a size 2T shell suit, I started to question her sanity.
You remember shell suits don't you? The fugly fashion of the late 80's and early 90's? If not, then let me refresh your memory. That's not even the worst part. Before I had a chance to burn it, Gwen had grabbed it and was pushing it in my face, desperate to put it on! What was she so attracted to? The hideous color combination? The odd placement of the printed panel? The sweat inducing properties of the synthetic non-breathable fabric?
I don't know, but she loved it. I'm only going to indulge her this one time though. I cannot let her wear it again, and definitely not in public. I'd better get it burned before she finds it again and requests a coordinating fanny pack to go with it.