Nostalgia

It was 9pm. I was exhausted. But talking to M who just had just returned from a weeklong business schmooze. Started folding laundry. Went to daughter's room and started cleaning up in there. Suddenly I'm sorting clothes to donate to Haiti. The next thing I know I'm clearing out the linen drawers. It's an hour and a half later (not bad IMO), there's still shit strewn all over the floor and I'm a weepy mess because I'm not sure I'm ready to part with the...get this...burping clothes.
I had no problem tossing the sweet little frocks that I fondly remember both girls wearing, shorts (that they never wore), and t-shirts from destinations I remember as being the "Best Vacation Ever" into the donate basket.
But I can't seem to bring myself to put the pink and flowery burp clothes in the same place. Maybe I'll have my MIL make a blanket out of them. Because that's JUST what my daughters will want when they have children of their own: a blanket made of clothes they puked on.