Monday, November 20, 2006


Michelle's story about her daughter's clothing angst reminds me of something that happened a couple of weeks ago.

It's only a matter of time before my daughter stops wanting to be seen with us. I can see it coming.

Little Brother always wants to wear things belonging to the Big Kids, or things that look just like the Big Kids' clothes. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, after all). About a month ago he wanted Big Brother's track jersey. I couldn't let him wear that to play in, so I dug up Middle Sister's old basketball jersey--the one from two seasons ago where the numbers were already starting to peel off--and popped it over his sweatshirt. He was thrilled. He wore it everywhere, even the supermarket. Of course, I didn't let him wear it to church, or where nicer-dress clothes were required, but just for our regular errands, I didn't see the harm in it.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was getting ready to take Middle Sister and Little Brother to Wegmans, which is a rather "upscale" supermarket. How upscale? When it opened last winter, I was practically the only shopper who didn't have a fur coat. I go there weekly to get their fantastic produce and take advantage of their low price on milk. Anyway, Little Brother ran to get his jersey, so I helped him put it on.

Middle Sister was horrified. "Mom, you're not going to let him go to Wegmans in that!

Do you think that was why she kept volunteering to go get some other item from some other aisle, for me? It was an extraordinary level of helpfulness, for sure.

Obviously she doesn't remember the time she went to the supermarket wearing a bathing suit, ballerina tutu skirt, party hat and magic wand, with snow boots on her feet. (No, I didn't get a picture. Wish I had, though!)

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