Ratting me out

ratting me outI put on my favorite Gator t-shirt as I got ready for my daily walk and was immediately horrified…there was a hole right below the gator’s mouth.  Oh, the humanity.

Over the course of my entire life, I believe I have purchased just one t-shirt (it was one of those glow in the dark Halloween jobs and, though I still have it today, the “glow” was a major disappointment).  My disinclination to buy a t-shirt has not left me in short supply, however.

Many friends bought me t-shirts for various holidays and birthdays.  My Mom bought me a few back in the day and through my work or charity events, I have obtained quite a few t-shirts.  Those sources have dried up (Mom being the most missed).  That means, as the years go on, my t-shirt supply dwindles.

I’m still okay.  I have probably two dozen left.  But a few of them are getting a bit ratty as well.

This seems to be a recent trend in my clothing, as if I purchased everything in the same month in the same year “X” time ago.  From underwear to shorts to the aforementioned t-shirts, stuff is wearing out at an alarming rate.

Now, when I “outgrow” clothing (i.e., get fatter), I can always donate it to various charities.  Ratty clothing, though, goes into rags or trash (can’t make very good rags out of shorts).  It looks like I may be heading for an actual shopping trip for casual clothes.

Since I’ve only had to wear them sparingly since leaving Corporate America, none of my business clothes need replacing (though I can only fit in my 30-waist suit pants if I suck in a huge breath…and don’t let it out until whatever event I’m attending is over).

As for the t-shirts, well, I’ll cross that bridge when a few more of them rat out on me.

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