Over the years, we measured our daughters' heights on the door jam of the downstairs hall closet. There were pencil marks, names, and measurements taken at sporadic intervals. Today, hubby painted over the measurements. I took a few photos before he applied the brush.
Sigh.
3 comments:
I remember doing that when I was a kid inside of my closet. Everytime I travel through the town that I grew up, I always wonder if those small pencil markings are still in the corner of my closet. Makes you think about the good ole' days, doesn't it?
I'll bet that was difficult to endure. Traces of the past erased.
That was one of the things I hated about moving. Leaving those marks for Juliette. I took a picture, too!
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