My mom used to say to me in the throws of battle, “I hope you have a daughter one day!!” At the time I’m sure she envisioned hot daggers being thrown from her mouth and piercing my impenetrable, black, 15 year old heart and I’d be screaming in my head, “Well, that might happen because I had sex LAST NIGHT! HA!“. Of course, I never actually said that because at the time my mom had six pack abs and could pick up the entire West end of the house with one arm to vacuum under it with the other. Scary.
Tuesday when I picked Cassidy up from school she looked very concerned. When I asked her what was up she explained:
Her: Today at PE we had to choose between soccer and cheerleading and I choose cheerleading because I really want to be a cheerleader but then the PE teacher gave us black plastic trash bags and string to make our uniforms and he said not to lose them because we have to wear them to all the soccer games now and they are so ugly because they are BLACK PLASTIC TRAS BAGS AND STRING and that’s not what cheerleaders wear they wear like really cute skirts and shirts and have pompoms and their shoelaces and hair things match the skirts and my I cut my trash bag really carefully and I looked like a BLIMP and it was SO EMBARRASSING and..
Me: Okay! Okay, calm down. He said you have to wear this uniform?
Me: And everybody has to wear the same thing?
Me: Well, if everybody is wearing it than it shouldn’t be that bad, Cassidy.
Her: Mom, it’s a black plastic trash bag. With STRING.
Me: *tries to contain uncontrollable laughter at the inflection of the words ‘black plastic trash bag’ and ‘string’*
Her: Now I’d rather play soccer.
Me: Well, you choose this so now you need to stick to it.
Her: Can I wear my cheerleading costume?
Me: Your Halloween costume? (From two years ago)
Me: That’s not really fair, Cassidy. Some of the other girls might not have uniforms or costumes to wear and then they’d feel really left out.
Her: They won’t feel left out Mom, they’ll feel EMBARRASSED!
We eventually decided that she could take her costume to school and IF the PE teacher said it was okay that she could wear it. She won’t even SHOW me the trash bag costume. Apparently it’s that embarrassing.
Thursday morning I decided that I wanted to wear tennis shoes to work. I never wear tennis shoes. Ever. But for some reason I woke up that morning thinking that I really needed to wear them and I don’t question these things when Aunt Flow is here. I don’t question ANYTHING when Aunt Flow is here. I’m lucky to form complete coherent sentences when Aunt Flow is here.
Anyway, I went into my closet to grab a pair of socks for the first time since last Winter and… NO SOCKS! Well, there were socks, but they were all crew sock and I can’t wear crew socks when I’m wearing capris, I need footie socks. So I spend the next 10 minutes tearing the house up looking for a single pair of my 40 pairs if footie socks and fianlly find all of them at the bottom of Cassidy’s laundry basket. I’m fuming and late getting out the door and thank god there was a pair in the dryer or the entire world might have fallen off its Axis under the weight of my sockless feet stomping like a two year old.
Later I asked Cassidy about it:
Me: Did you take all my socks out of my closet?
Her: No, just the short ones.
Me: ALL the short ones.
Her: Well, I didn’t have any clean socks.
Me: Well those are MY socks Cassidy and when I go to get a pair of socks I’d like to have ONE pair that I can wear in there and just because you have 10 pair of sock that you don’t want to wear CLEAN doesnâ€™t mean that you can take mine because you don’t have any that are clean because they ARE clean you just don’t want to wear them.
Me: I’m serious I didn’t pay money to have socks for ME to wear in MY so that YOU can wear them all.
Her: *looking at me like I am certifiably insane”
And then it dawned on me. I’ve had this exact same conversation with my mother!! And it usually ended in her wishing that someday I’d have a hormonal, sock stealing, ungrateful daughter who is forced to wear black plastic trash bags just so I’d have to ENDURE HER WRATH and watch my daggers bounce off her impenetrable, black, heart… and the worst part? In a few years that’s going to happen!!
So I came up with a very simple solution. When she turns 13, I’m running away from home.