After 2T Comes 3T... or Does it?

Alex & Simon Lobsters 2007Oops, I did it again!  I spent waaay too much money and made too many frivolous purchases at Gymboree!  Those of you who read my last clothes shopping fiasco article will be not at all surprised about this latest mishap, but believe me when I say it started innocently enough…  In fact, the reason I found myself in the infamous store in the first place was because I was merely exchanging a few articles of clothing.

You see, earlier this season, I went to Gymboree during a sale and bought up a bunch of size 3T shorts on special, I’m talking 50% off.  Well, okay, not all of them were on sale.  Nevertheless, how clever of me to plan ahead and pick up a few summer things, don’t you think?  After all, the boys had long out-grown last summer’s shorts.  And it stands to reason that since they wore 2T last summer, this summer they would need 3T, right?  WRONG!

Months after my shopping excursion, I happened to be chatting with a friend about sizing, and was surprised to learn that after 2T, things change in the clothing department at Gymboree.  You see, if you have huskier, chubbier little fellows, especially those still in diapers, you need 3T, which tends to be a little roomier.  Narrow skinny guys like mine require a simple size 3.  Who knew???   I anxiously thought of my neatly labelled “Summer” bin full of brand new, tags removed, ready to wear size 3T shorts.  In a panic, I drove home immediately, and pulled them out to be sure.  Yes, they were 3T.  Yikes!  Ever the optimist, I convinced myself that they would fit “just fine”, and to prove my point, I laid out a new summer outfit for the boys to wear the next day.  (Thankfully, it was sunny and warm.)

Morning came, and I proudly showed the boys their new outfits.  Alex, being the fashion pig that he is, grunted with delight at the Hawaiian themed shirt and matching kahki pants I had selected for him.  Simon seemed indifferent to his classically styled surfer shirt.  I tugged on the shorts.  There wasn’t much to tug.  They practically hung off his bottom.  In a desperate attempt to disguise my voluminous mispurchase, I folded over the top of Simon’s shorts to “tighten” the fit.  As he walked to the kitchen to ask my husband for more milk, the shorts began to slide back down his behind.  Darn. 

Honey” came the call from the kitchen, “Simon’s shorts are falling down.”

Indignantly, I retorted that since it was only April, I had of course purchased shorts a little large to give them room to grow into.  A month passed, and no “growing into” occurred.  In fact, even the Daycare vetoed the shorts, citing their ever-slipping down size as a safety hazard (apparently the boys tripped on them as the shorts slid over their knees, making it difficult to run in the playground).

Realising I would need to make another trek to Gymboree (the TPOMBA clothing sale had yielded many treasures, but sadly no shorts!), I searched for at least a few pairs whose tags had not been removed, so that I might exchange them, rather than buying a bunch of new stuff outright.  Mercifully, I found two pairs.  I jammed them in a bag, and the next day at lunch, I rushed out to the mall to make my exchanges, and maybe buy just one or two extra pairs.  (Who needs more than two pairs of shorts anyway, really, I thought—if the colour is right, they can just match them with different shirts each day.)

I had not been to Gymboree for several months, and the moment I walked through the doors of that delightfully overpriced clothing emporium, I knew I was not getting out with “just one or two more pairs”.  There were so many new and fabulous items on display!  Sure enough, two pants, a tiger and gorilla shirt and four pairs of shorts (each!) later, I staggered out of the store and back to my car.  At home that evening, I realised I had definitely overbought.  Further, I was still missing a few critical pieces (namely an off-white pair of shorts for Alex, to go with the newly acquired tiger shirt).  Thankfully, I had not yanked the tags off these purchases yet, and had kept the receipt, and so I stuffed my exchange items back in the trunk, along with the item number of the ONE pair of shorts I still needed.

The next day at lunch, I again chose to forgo a relaxing 45 minutes with colleagues in favour of dashing out to the mall.  After all, I mused, it would just be a quick trip, and this time I knew exactly what I needed.  The idea was to refund the extraneous pairs of shorts, and pick up the one alternate pair for Alex.  How was I to know that that very morning, Gymboree had unveiled its newest line, some kind of cute little seashore affair, including the sweetest little lobster shirts, complete with matching lobster sun hats.  I had to have two of them; I knew my boys would love them as much as I did!  So I forked over a few more bucks and got out of there as quick as I could.  Thankfully I had thought to remove the tags before leaving so that I could just integrate the new threads into the boys’ clothing drawers at home without my husband being too suspicious (no, no, dear…. Those were part of the stuff I bought on sale last fall, aren’t they cute?)

The boys were as enthralled with their “crabby” outfits as I had anticipated, and even though I have heart palpitations whenever I think of the upcoming Visa statement, I nevertheless relish the sight of my little fashionistas in their fancy new duds and well-fitting shorts.  Who knew that parenthood would make me so vain and shallow!

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