Friday, May 6, 2011

Refraining from “I Told You So”

At two months of age, our infant daughter had already outgrown all of her newborn clothes. Being born at nearly ten pounds will do that.

So Jeff and I agreed on the amount we could spend on new baby clothes.

Armed with stroller and wallet, I entered the mall. I planned to visit a few fun stores before heading to Target. And by “fun” I mean “high-end.”

Oh my. The stuff available for baby girls makes grown women croon. This one store in particular specialized in coordinated ensembles – the socks, shoes, headbands, bibs, and receiving blankets all perfectly matched the designated outfit. By the time I bought every matching accessory, I had spent the entire amount allotted from our budget.

Guilt plagued me all the way home. I could have purchased ten separate outfits from Target for the price of this one charming set.

Knowing that I would never be able to convince my ever-so-frugal-accountant-of-a-husband of the necessity of such a purchase, I began to rationalize my actions and prepare my defense.

Honey, we’re having baby pictures taken next week, so I got this whole get up so Brynn would have something special to wear in the photos. Just imagine how cute the pictures will be with these matching hair bows and socks!

Plus, we’re going to that barbeque this weekend, and we’ll be seeing friends who haven’t met our little girl yet. Brynn can wear this outfit when our friends see her for the first time!

“Uh-huh,” was all he could say.

On the day of the big barbeque, I dressed Brynn in her fancy duds. Pure delight filled me. Then, while still in the car, our sweet cherub filled her diaper. She filled it so full, in fact, that it overflowed. Mustard-colored poop pushed its way up her back and squeezed down both of her legs. For some reason, it wouldn’t stop either. The stuff kept coming, and I couldn’t contain it.

As soon as we arrived at the barbeque, I rushed towards the bathroom with Brynn, hoping nothing dropped on the way. The clean-up job required an entire box of wipes.

A total and complete disaster.

Thirty minutes later, Jeff knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you guys okay in there?”

With faucet running, I managed to say, “Yeah, we’re fine. Go back to the party.”

Through the door, he whispered, “I know what you’re trying to do. And you don’t have to. Just put the clothes in a plastic bag and join the party.”

Devastated, I opened the door. Jeff found the once-beautiful outfit soaking in the sink. No detergent on earth could act as a magic cure.

Utterly ruined.

If ever there was a time to say, “I told you so,” it was at this moment.

Instead, he picked Brynn up, kissed my forehead and never brought it up again.

Needless to say, I never shopped at that store again either. It wasn’t worth it. Not with our budget. And if a circumstance happens to arise when I feel the urge to tell him, “I told you so,” I remember that day.



Kelly Combs said...

Great post DJ. I wanted to buy the sleigh bed crib for thousands of dollars, and my "mean" husband told me "no." We got a modest, yet nice, crib. And when my daugher moved to the toddler bed and the crib was stored in the attic, I realized how silly it would have been to spend that money on something we used 2 years. Instead we could invest in a nice bedroom suit for her to use from youth - college.

Thank goodness for husbands with grace.

Warren Baldwin said...

You do a good job of turning a great story into a greater lesson.

Marsha Young said...

An eye-popping story; and I cannot believe that in all the years since then, I have never heard it - from either of you! :)

Good job!

Beth.. One Blessed Nana said...

as a mother to 3 girls (now all grown) i feel your pain here! i am tempted to do the same for my 2 granddaughters and have to remind myself that they will outgrow it quicker than i can pay for it!

love this story DJ - several great lessons in it.

D.J. Hughes said...

Kelly, thanks for sharing your story about the sleigh bed. I can so relate!

Warren, thank you. I learn so much from reflecting on experiences.

Marsha, yep, I haven't told that story to many - until now anyway. :)

Beth, thanks. God bless you as you help influence your beautiful grandchildren in Godly ways.

Sonya Lee Thompson said...


I love this post. Thank you for your transparency. We can all learn from this lesson.