"Welcome to Kissimmee!"

Welcome to Kissimmee!!

by Renata Vallazza on Tuesday, November 30, 2010 at 10:44pm

Doing laundry is always an interesting time.  Every single time I wash the clothes, I always come across an article of clothing that reminds me of something from my past, mainly childhood.

I recall many times my father teaching me how he folded clothes, especially shirts. There was this certain way that he always folded them, making sure that the seams met when folding them.  When picking out the t-shirts, they would normally remain "crispy" and only have wrinkles where the shirts were folded.

Recently, from moving back and forth and putting my shirts in boxes and taking them out of boxes, I discovered a whole bunch of shirts.  Not just because of how they were folded, but what kind of t-shirts they were.  They were SOUVENIR shirts.  Exciting, huh? Some of them said, "Kansas City Dad".  Another said "Guayaquil, Ecuador".  Another said "I was in Mexico!" with a map of Mexico with an arrow pointing to Mexico City.  "Sons of Italy", "If it's not from Scotland, it's CRRRAAAAPPPP!" (think Mike Meyers) "Welcome to Kissimmee! - Home of Mickey Mouse" etc.  There was quite a plethora of these kinds of shirts!

Now here I perhaps should explain something. My parents are collectors.  My mother has a collection of books, teapots, teacups and whisks. My father collects toy cars and dog stuff. They are also gifters. They love to give stuff away. They also LOVE to give souvenir t-shirts.  Anytime they go out of town or out of the country, they always ask me (and I assume everyone else) "What do you want me to get you?"  and of course, you (being like me) will say, "Oh, I would love it if you got me a piece of jewelry or an authentic bag/pair of shoes/flag, etc from (insert name of foreign place here)"  and they'll tell you, "Okay!".

Well, not to sound ungrateful here, they come back with a t-shirt.  They'll typically tell you, "I couldn't find what you wanted"  which of course is such b.s. because you KNOW they have that stuff in said country/city. My father has donated many of these tshirts to his siblings and cousins.  It's always the preferred gift.  My uncle (father's cousin) has a shirt that say "Kansas City's BEST Grandpa" or something like it.  Of course, to be polite, you wear said shirt as soon as it's gifted for fear of being offensive.  It's actually quite funny.

The last time that my father was in town visiting me, which was in October, we went to Walmart.  For those of you that know me, I loathe Walmart and having to even step foot inside.  Not because of the store itself. I actually enjoy they have low prices - it's just the clientele. Anyhow....my father wanders around and asks a clerk, "Where do they have t-shirts?"  The man points him in the desired direction and I run after my father, since his strides are much longer than my short little legs and it takes me a while to keep up.

My father asks me, "What shirts do you like?"  and I'm thinking to myself, "Oh dear. I don't need souvenir shirts from the state I live in."  and I tell him that I really didn't like very many of them.

"Dis is NOT for you.  I'm tinking, I get it for Sandy an' Steve. Maybe Anita or your mot'er.  Do you tink Giancarlo would like one?"

I think to myself, "If I don't like these, why would anyone else?"  but perhaps I'm a snob.

My father bought a few things for people in Kansas City and took them with him.

However, there was one time where I put them in the Goodwill pile because I simply just can't wear these shirts out in public.  My mother was LIVID one day because I told her I got rid of one.  "I got that for you and it cost me (insert $ amt here) dollars in MEXICO of all places! I figured you'd wear it!!!"  I just CANNOT for the life of me, wear something that has a place name emblazoned on the front of a t-shirt unless it's something like Jayhawks or something I enjoy. I'd rather have a scarf or a jersey with a name on it from some place.  That's more practical.

Since my mother reprimanded me that one time about getting rid of shirts, now I save them because I also think, "well, my dad got that for me and it's special because he got it for me."  For some reason, the shirts mean more to me than let's say, a piece of jewelry he bought me.  They're memories of how quirky my family is.

I don't know. What do you think?