Ragawhat?

Mrs. LIAYF and I were folding some of Luke's freshly laundered baby clothes yesterday (many of which are getting a bit small or worn out) when she looked up and announced "We are going to have to get some more clothes for Lukas before he starts daycare". I was a bit surprised, because budlet has a bunch of clothes and we do have quite a few friends and family with boys slightly older than he is and thus get quite a few lightly used (ok, hand-me-downs) clothes. I have no problem with 2nd hand clothes, because having a kid is, excuse my French, freakin expensive! (and this is just one, how do you people with a truckload of kids manage?) You have to cut costs where you can. I guess I do have to admit that I push the limit of usefullness on his clothes just a bit "No, honey, it's not time to put that romper in the donate pile, I can still get him into it if I bend his leg just so..."

Anyway, I look up at her and say, "Really? He has a lot of clothes already." To which her response was classic Mrs. LIAYF "We don't want him to look like a Ragamuffin" Did she really say that? Ragamuffin? What are we, at the turn of the 19th century England here? We could go ahead and let him look like a Ragamuffin, and teach him to pick pocket as well! And while we are at it, we could (once he's a bit older mind you) lower him down the chimney to give it a good once over too, as it hasn't been cleaned in a while. We could pay him tuppence what ever the hell that is. We really should have named him something like Oliver.

Or not. I do want Luke to make a good impression at day care and to be adored there as much as he is here. He can have all the new, or 2nd hand size appropriate, clothes Mrs. LIAYF wants to get him!