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i’m getting smaller

I gave my 12 year old son strict instructions to go through his wardrobe and remove everything that no longer fits him.

It didn’t take long before the pile of I look like I’m waiting for a flood and Real men don’t wear midriff tops was bigger than what was left in his wardrobe.

Lastly he did the shoes.

He tried on one pair after another only to add them to the discard heap. Finally we were left with a solitary pair of Ripcurl flip-flops.

I did a mental note of all that would need replacing and heard my bank manager groan. Or maybe that was the folk at VISA high five-ing each other with delight.

Hang on, I said as I retrieved a pair of cheapey and scuffed up Volley runners from the top of the pile. I only bought them for you a few months ago.
Sorry Mum, he said with a shrug, they’re too small.
I made him try them on again.
Ah, you’re right, I said as I watched him do a step-sister-squish-a-foot-into-Cinderella’s-glass-slipper-act.
He handed them to me, shrugged again and said, they’d probably fit you though Mum. I heard him chuckle as he walked away.

I piled all the clothes and shoes into donation bags. But I held onto the Volleys. Quietly, in my bedroom I tried them on.

They fitted me fine.

No, I tell a lie.
They were much more than a little roomy.

That’s me wearing them in the picture.

I think I’ll keep them.

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