clothes.

My clothes seem to share a common theme of "grease spot." Some of them have ventured from this norm, and have variations such as "chocolate spot," "ink spot," or "detergent spot." I try to keep my children's clothes from these fates, however, because I feel like if at least my boys look nice, people are less likely to think me white trash. That is, of course, unless we are at Target. It is extremely distressing, then, when I pick them up from daycare looking homeless. Or at least washing-machine-less. Like when I went to get Jonathan and he had chocolate frosting plastered all over his brand-new white Alaska T-shirt with the glow-in-the-dark picture on the front. I was furious. I don't have the time to go to Alaska and replace it, and I really liked that shirt. Or yesterday, for the boys' first day at their new daycare, Jonathan had on a brand new button down striped shirt with a doggie. It was adorable, until it was covered in Spaghettio's. There is exactly one thing that is adorable even when covered in Spaghettio's, and that is baby belly. Good ol' nakie baby belly.