sorting through some old children’s clothes to send to charity I suddenly found myself reminiscing.
Every little outfit brought back a memory as I folded them up to go into a bag.
I’m not so sentimental that I’d hang on to them though, I’m too much of a firm believer in recycling.
My younger son is eight and, having an older brother, has barely had a stitch of new clothing since he was born.
Being thrifty, hand-me-downs have always kept him clothed.
With five years between them, it means he isn’t always in the height of fashion, but at least I haven’t ever made him wear any of his older sister’s cast-offs.