In my excitement over the upcoming vacation, I had the brilliant idea to make the family Mickey shirts. Each of us got one, but we're not the matchy-matchy kind of people here so they all had to be different. I loved the challenge of finding a design for each person that they would love.
I had all the shirts finished, then realized that Josh's and Luke's were in a size smaller than they needed to be. (Silly boys and their need to grow every few months...) I remade their shirts, finishing a few days before we leave. (Which is actually a feat for me. I rock procrastination like nobody else.) Six shirts were done, plus an extra for the second daughter we were taking along. Sometimes I can rock more than just procrastination.
So we're packing, and Josh says, "why is my Mickey shirt not very noticeable?"
I did a bleached Mickey for him. Something like this:
Only with Mickey on it, of course. And I didn't bleach it to contrast as much, because I wasn't sure that a teen boy would want a Mickey shirt. He put off that vibe when I said I was making him one.
"So, do you want me to make you another shirt?" I asked him. "Well, if you want to," he replied, which is his way of saying, "would you? I'd love that!"
So I made my boy another shirt, because he wanted me to. How awesome is it that he still loves for his mama to make shirts for him? My vacation is already happy, and we haven't even left yet.