Alex sharpens her rhetorical skills.

Alex: (apropos of nothing, but very authoritatively) Most people believe that Santa Claus comes in the door, even if there's a chimney.
Me: They do?
Alex: *Some* people believe that.
Me: (to Michael) Alex is going to be a blogger someday.
Alex: Why do some people believe that Santa Claus comes in the door, even if there's a chimney?
Me: That's better, but you're still begging the question. *Do* people believe that?
Alex: (again with authority): Yes.
Me: Who believes that?
Alex: Some people. People we don't know.
Michael: Yep, she's definitely ready for a blog.
[Michael and I trade snide comments about appropriate outlets for this level of rhetoric.]
Alex: Some people believe that Santa Claus has a key to every door in the world, and he uses that key to get in, even when there's a chimney.
Me: Are you making this argument only to demolish it?
Alex: What's demolish?
Me: Tear it apart.
Alex: What's tear it apart?
Me: Are you only saying this because you don't believe it and you want to say that those people are wrong?
Alex: (happy to be understood): Uh huh.

I tell you, she's going to fit right in with certain segments of the political blogosphere.

Okay, that was just ridiculous.

We went to a cookout yesterday at the home of one of Alex's friends. This little girl only wears dresses and is always exquisitely dressed. (Perhaps because of her influence, this summer Alex has started refusing to wear shorts or pants. Although we insist sometimes, for things like hiking in the woods.) Well, at the cookout, the mom revealed the secret of her daughter's large and impeccable wardrobe: "There's this great thrift shop up on North Avenue..."

So today we checked it out. And it was the least prepossessing piece of urban blight imaginable. North Avenue is a sketchy street to begin with. The thrift shop had a blank, stained concrete wall facing the street, with a dirty old sign saying "Village Thrift." You had to park in a lot surrounded by a high fence, up against a housing project, and walk around to the back of this huge blank concrete edifice. There was no directional signage. You couldn't even tell if anyone was there.

But inside... whoa.

I took a quick glance at the media section near the door. Thrift store book sections are usually a waste of time - Harlequin romances and earnest Christian tracts - but I quickly found myself balancing a big stack of classic juvenile/YA literature. And then the video section: all the classic works of Disney, movie musicals, the Anne of Green Gables miniseries with Megan Followes...



When we tore ourselves away and made it back to the girls' dresses section, we found the selection to be equally good. We pulled about fifteen dresses right away, then winnowed them down to eight. None showing any significant wear. Some had obviously only been worn once or twice.

/

We even let Alex buy this ridiculous Christmas dress, because why not? It was $2.50. It will be a nice addition to our dress-up clothes after the holiday.



Our total, for eight nice dresses, nine books, and ten videos - eleven, if you count both halves of the Anne miniseries - was $22.74.

$22.74. Isn't that ridiculous?

I'm kicking myself, because just Saturday I went to my usual upscale consignment store and dropped about a hundred bucks on the bulk of Alex's winter wardrobe. Okay, so those clothes were largely better brands - although two of the dresses I got today are from Land's End - and I got some beautiful things that I'm totally happy with. But still. Had I but known.

I never in a million years would've stopped at this place on my own. It looks too awful. I just can't believe the selection they have. Where on earth do they get their things?