I sat there hanging from that cheap plastic hanger. All I can do is hope. When we hear the creak of her bedroom door we all hush up waiting anxiously for her choice.
She stood infront of us wrapped in a towel after taking a shower of course. My soft cotton heart began beating so hard when she lifted her hand to criticize and eliminate.
When she lifted me from the rack I had to hold back tears. I have to compliment her fashion sense. Thirteen and wearing denim shorts and a gorgeous t-shirt.
If I do say so my self I think I'm pulling off the look pretty well. *cough cough* I mean SHE. The next thing I know I'm outside in the smoldering heat.
Oh my goodness! "Oh my gosh I'm sweating so much!" She said. Girlll! That's not you! That's my sweat kid! She pulled out a package of antiperspirant. Ha! As if that'll help.
God child! I'M ONE HUNDRED% COTTON! Face. The. Facts. After that little uh, sweat battle? We sat down to eat. As we were waiting in line I read the menu.
Oh anything but the #- "I think I'll take the number three.
" Nooooooooo! Let's just say that when I was put into the wash I had to go through three different runs to get clean again😭 And that has been... A Day in the Life of a Shirt 👚