Stupid buttons

I slid into the booth at dinner tonight and my shirt got caught on the edge of the table, thus popping off two buttons. There was also a suspicious ripping sound. Naturally, it's one of my very favorite shirts--casual but dressy, with the tiny, understated little logo on the pocket that was probably 80% of the cost of the shirt--oh, hush, I bought it at TJ Maxx so no whining over the patheticness of paying more for name-brands when I paid less for it than the equivalent no-name shirt. I don't know if most people even care about that, actually, but the whole thing drives M crazy so I'm a little more sensitive to it than I used to be, I guess. I think he's just of the opinion that a logo is a ridiculous thing to spend money on. (One of the most classic lines in our household: "Who the hell raised you? Nike?") He had a pretty funny conversation with my aunt about it a while back. My aunt, who will not let even a name-brand garment grace her son's body if it was not purchased new--ie, no yard sale bargains for her--was lamenting about how sad it is that the first-graders nowadays are into fashion. M pointed out that it was a lot less sad for them than for anyone else since they're not old enough to know any better, whereas the rest of us are. She didn't have a lot to say to that but she clearly disagreed with him. He's gotten a little better now, though, because we finally made him stop buying cheap sneakers. I'll take my small victories where I can find them.

My entries are getting weirder and weirder. I don't even know where this stuff comes from.. maybe I'm just working the cobwebs out of my brain before a full-fledged return to normal blogging. Let's just pretend that's the case. Or maybe I just need more sleep.