Overheard on Halloween morning;
"What are you doing with my shirt? That's the shirt Aunty Robyn gave me for Christmas?! What did you do to it?!"
Followed by much high pitched shrieking.
Sometimes you let them work things out themselves.
Sometimes you have to step in.
I had to step in.
Especially as I was the one who told Younger Brother he could cut up the shirt as part of his Hobo costume for Halloween.
In my defence, the shirt has been in Younger Brother's possession for several months, and Older Brother hasn't missed it.
It didn't look like a shirt that would be particularly missed.
Sigh.
Note to self: check tags in shirts before doing anything out of the ordinary with them.
I guess I will start shopping for shirts.
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