Saturday, January 17, 2009

Not A Slave to Fashion

"She dresses kooky.”
The husband often makes announcements like the one above and this : “The house is a wreck.” and I generally ignore them, because unless there is a directive I feel he is just expressing an opinion. But when he said— “She dresses kooky and YOU should do something about it. YOU are her MOTHER” those are fighting words.

It is here that I want to mention that marriage did not come easily to me. I lived happily alone for many years in the city before I was wooed away by promises of a sex filled bucolic life. The first few years involved many flying coffee cups, packed bags, threats of changing locks etc....but years later I have become more Zen in my approach to living with someone else...someone, who I believe, is even MORE annoying than I am...

As soon as the words are out of his mouth I sit quietly stroking my coffee frighten him and then think-I buy the child normal clothes....I cannot help that she is not a slave to fashion. She is creative. If she chooses to wear her hot pink fleece with her acid green windbreaker, a wildly colored skirt and turquoise Merrill's —what am I to do? By the time she is at the school bus stop I am already tucked in my NYC cubicle writing mind numbing memos to other administrators.

Yet years of marriage have served me well. I say--”Of course.”

The following morning as I write my breakfast note to The Beast which always goes something like this—”Please remember to work hard and have fun at school. Don’t forget your homework. I LOVE YOU! “ I follow this morning with a post script. “P.S. Please don’t dress kooky.”

My part as a mother is done.

And here can see the results.

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