When I was a teenager, I would sometimes look through my mom’s closet in search of something to wear. But her closet did not help me with my first-world problem of needing something to wear because there was practically nothing in it. I never understood how she could have so little to wear.

Until I became a mom.

Now I know.

There are two things that happen when you are in the throes of the childrearing years.

Number one. Laundry is doable. There is always, constantly, a load of laundry going. So you just wash the few things you have over and over.

Number two. Shopping is not possible. Like ever. And if you do manage to step inside a store, there are three truths:

Truth one: The store is Target.

Truth two: You will be out of energy before you find clothes for your kids (nevermind yourself).

Truth three: Kids don’t find the things they need when you shop. They just find other things.

I recently took my twelve-year-old shopping (at Target). We had a long list of items she needed, including shorts, t-shirts, and socks. I thought we were doing great: She said yes to everything I picked up and let me carry it around till we got to the dressing room where she took everything inside and closed the door. (This happens when they’re twelve, and it is heartbreaking.) The one thing she chose was a skirt (not on the list) that she had picked up from the discard rack in the dressing room. And when I went in to help her gather up all the rejects, I could tell she had not tried any of them on because they were still on hangers. And not inside out. “What about this? And this? And this?” I asked.

“I decided I don’t like it.”

And that was that. (There is no reasoning with an opinionated twelve-year-old. And if you don’t believe me, I might just loan her to you for the rest of the summer.)

As we came out of the dressing room, my daughter, who has a 26-hour bladder (like seriously, she never goes), asked to use the bathroom. So I thought it would be a good idea to pay for the skirt, use the bathroom, and then finish our shopping. But this turned out to be a big fat mess because I went through the self-checkout but did not think to get a bag. And then I didn’t want to reenter Target with merchandise in my arms. I decided to put the skirt in my purse, which was jam-packed with lunch leftovers. I put it in there anyway, all bunched up and wrinkly. And I left the hanger in the bathroom because where else was I going to put it?

So we went back into the store and got my daughter the notebook she needed, and I didn’t know why we couldn’t have just picked that up on the way out with the skirt the first time. And then we got to the checkout line and there was no one in front of us but the checker was counting a large stack of $5 bills, so I finally asked, “Are you open?” thinking maybe we should try another line but that made him lose count. He said that yes, he was open, but then he recounted all those bills again from the beginning while we waited.

And when we finally made it to the exit, I was done.

And that is why I have no clothes of my own.

Also, my daughter still needs shorts, t-shirts, and socks.