With three boys arranged like evenly-spaced stair steps, I have managed to avoid quite a bit of clothes purchases by storing away sizes as each one finishes with it. Some things, like jeans, barely make it through. Other items, like dress clothes and sweaters, still have plenty of wear left when they are packed away.
Secondo needed a pair of khakis for a concert last week, and everything in his closet was too small. He went "shopping in the big closet"—our term for seeking out the box with the next size up. He quickly announced he found a pair that would suit. I have learned the hard way however, so the night before the concert, I told him I needed to see the khakis up close and personal, to make sure they actually existed and didn't have giant holes or grass stains in the knees.
Secondo (very busy watching reruns of "The Office" on the iPad): "What do you need to see them for? I told you I have them."
Me: "Because I need to see them. Please bring me the khakis."
Secondo: "MOOOOMMMMM! I told you I found khakis! They fit me perfectly! I'm fine! Why do I have to show them to you?"
(A few more minutes of this back-and-forth, and my LSH gets sick of the argument.)
LSH: "Secondo! Bring the khakis to your mother!"
Secondo: "I don't see why I need to bring the khakis to her! I found them! I'm all set!"
LSH: "RIGHT NOW! Bring the khakis to your mother THIS MINUTE!"
Secondo: "What are khakis?"
We eventually did locate a pair in the big closet, but today was the piano recital for all three. Needless to say, those danged khakis were nowhere to be found.
Nor was his belt.