Unfortunately, Fall has caught me a little by surprise. It shouldn't have, but it did.
When we moved from Boston to San Diego a year and a half ago, I all-too-cheerfully filled our trash can with everything warm - sweaters, coats, boots, mittens, snowsuits, and long pants. Gone forever was winter from my life. Winter and I? We were breaking up. Irreconcilable differences, in the end. Gone would be the bitter wind chills and Nor'Easters. Gone, too, the annoying snowstorms that always come in May. Instead, winter was going to be replaced by warm, glorious San Diego sunshine. Sunshine. My new boyfriend. The one that I was going to be having an affair with at the beach every day for the rest of my life (until I got skin cancer and died, that is).
Hello, Missouri. And like the abusive boyfriend I just can't stay away from, Winter and I are back together again.
So now the mornings are chilly, the afternoons brisk, and the nights freezing. Our wardrobes have come up severely delinquent, and it is especially evident in the children.
So bad, in fact, that Chase walked out of the house this morning in an outfit similar to this:
McKay is still living in denial - he went out the door in shorts and a hoodie. And I felt sorry for him, I did, as I watched him hop up and down at the bus stop, while I was all warm and cozy inside the house.
He thinks he's too cool for the flood pants that his brother so happily wears. Well, who's cool and who's cold, mister?
So it is with a heavy heart today that I'll get online and start shopping for the blasted long pants, the winter coats, boots, mittens, and hats for the children. Blech. I'm just not feeling it. I'd rather be shopping instead for some of these to adorn my own closet:
But I can't wilfully subject the children to ridicule, so new clothes for them it will be. Oh the joy.