August 26, 2009

The Clothing Fairy retires

Unlike my famous sister, the Tooth Fairy, I get very little press. I suppose it's the money. There is no money and no attention for me, the Clothing Fairy. In most cases, it's a short gig. I select and provide the kids' clothes until about age four when they have their own preferences and desires and can be taken shopping.

However, thanks to me, clothes have been magically appearing in Hart's and Jeff's dresser for many, many years. Additionally, every evening a matching outfit for the next day mysteriously appears, all laid out and assembled. It's been a long relationship, well over a decade.

Mind you, it's not an easy job either. In addition to the rules and regulations of my own chapter (no camoflage, no licensed characters, no polyester), I have to take into consideration the preferences of my clients (no "clownish" colors, no patterned underwear, no white socks, no zippered flies). I am not unreasonable, but the rule about elastic waistbands grew more and more onerous after Hart and Jeff outgrew Gymboree sizing.

Also, Hart is now out of my service area. I am frequently reminded of a bit of dialogue from RAIN MAN. "Tell him, Raymond! K-Mart Sucks." But, never mind. Clearly the Wisconsin Clothing Fairy is much more lax than I.

But now I am retiring. The writing was on the wall a year ago, when Jeff announced that since he was in high school he needed black jeans. The Clothing Fairy cannot magically provide jeans: the client must try them on first. Jeff actually had to go a a store, select a few pairs and go to a dressing room to vet them out. I wasn't sure if this was simply an anomaly, so I remained on the case for almost another whole year, dutifully laying out daily outfits.

Now I am done. Jeff went to overnight camp for four weeks and although the photos prove he isn't the professional clothing selector that I am (why was he wearing a pajama shirt on the ropes course?), it's been a smooth transition. I am overdue for a quiet retirement. Although Jeff wears his STING t-shirt a little too often for my taste . . .

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