Why is it so hard for me to throw away old, stretched out underwear?  I mean, it's not just hard for me to throw out my own old underwear, but my kids' and Kyle's.

As I was folding laundry this morning I decided I just had to get rid of a few pairs of underwear.  I found a pair of Kyle's with holes in them and then rethought throwing them out because what if they were his favorite pair?  What if he totally ran out one day and that old pair with all the holes in them was somehow stuck at the back of the drawer and he found them and they saved him from some embarrassing situation?

Next I found an old pair of mine that I've been meaning to throw out but have found excuses to keep.  My mother pointed out on her last visit that some of my unmentionables have gone through three pregnancies now and they've seen better days.  Yes, my mother was doing my laundry.  I had just had a baby afterall, and I take advantage when I can, and she's my mother.  There is something oddly comforting about my mother folding my panties, as she calls them (although, it sounds more like pannies when she says it).

The last pair of underwear I saw that I knew needed to be thrown out was my five year old's training pants.  he hates this pair of underwear and they look very babyish, but I have kept them because he's still my baby and I don't want him to be old enough to throw out training pants.  Don't get me wrong, I love that he is trained in the ways of the potty and that he is way too old to worry about training pants, but those Spiderman under roos are just another reminder of my baby growing up.

As I looked at these three pair of old, ragged, well used underwear, I noticed something.  They were all blue.  I took it as a sad sign.  I threw them all out.  At least they are together.