My drawers runneth over

When I was a kid, each season we had the official changing over of the clothes day.

My dad would crawl up into the attic and hand down the various bags and boxes packed away with the previous year's clothes. Winter sweaters were taken out of our dressers and replaced with t-shirts and shorts. Sometime around September the scene was repeated, only in reverse.

I used to look forward to it. It was a chance to see how much I had grown over the course of about six or seven months. Anything that didn't fit anymore was put into bags and taken to the nearest clothing bank. It was a sign of pride to me that I was not able to fit into that one pair of shorts or that t-shirt that was just a little snug the year before needed to be traded in for the next size.

Then high school hit.

The changing over of clothes became a chore. Instead of being proud of how much I had grown (by this point, not much) vertically, it became an embarrassing lesson in how much I had grown in other places. Wider hips. Bigger chest. More weight. Not fun.

Last night after my shopping binge at Old Navy, I realized it was time for me to do the official switch. Especially since I couldn't fit my new purchases into any of my drawers. It's a daunting task, at best, involving me dragging my large plastice boxes down from the attic, removing everything from my drawers and replacing with clothes I hope will fit.

On the upside, there's nothing more motivating on the exercise front than having to try on clothes.