While growing up, my mom would wash and dry our clothes and she had the magical ability to turn my 5T sweater into a Barbie dress. The most amazing experience I’ve ever witnessed was when I was visiting her in my early 20’s for a holiday.
My bra needed to dry and I usually air dry it but I was in a rush so my mom threw it in the dryer. She took the clothes out of the dryer and we were baffled when we couldn’t find my bra.
Then, we saw it.
My bra, that poor, dear bra had melted into the back of the dryer. My mother had to actually peel the bra from the back of the got damn dryer.
There it was. A crumpled and burned mess. On one hand, it was my only bra that didn’t annoy me so I wanted to take a sledgehammer to that dryer. But, on the other hand, it was just a weird mishap and fucking hilarious.
Fuck you, dryer.
The point of the story, I’m guessing, is that I can’t shrink my daughter’s clothes the way my mom can. I actually wish I could.
The hummingbird is small for being 8 years-old. So, there are clothes I buy and have to know what runs small or big. I bought these fleece pajama pants for her that was a 7/8 and they seemed to fit but I was really surprised by how big they were on her when she tried them on. The younger size was too small so she’s in the middle. She will most likely be able to wear them through 9 years-old.
I washed them and put them in the dryer for longer than needed but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
They didn’t shrink.
Hmmm… I think my mom needs to come back to Maine so she can work her magic and shrink some of these clothes that I have for the hummingbird.
I just don’t have the magic touch that she has.