« DO! WANT!! | Home | Geeky coolness »
August 7, 2008
Welcome to my world, little one
Next week, my gorgeous almost 15 year old daughter Jazz is going to
Vermont with her best friend. She's been saving the money her father has
given her over the summer for spending money and I agreed to pay for
her trip because she has been an AWESOME kid this year, working very
hard her first year of High School to stay on the honor roll and helping
around the house without question.
She has been diligent drumming up extra jobs, though, just to make sure she has enough to buy presents for us while she is there. This morning, for instance, she got up, took a shower, and called my mom so that she could go over her house for the day. Her Nonnie can't get down on her knees and clean out cabinets or climb on top of the counters and dust of the chachkis on the highest shelves, but Jazz is a natural monkey.
She just came home from my mom's house with a funny smirk on her face. She was holding something behind her back and when I asked what she had, she asked me not to laugh. That was when I knew ... my mom got her clothes.
Let me spell this out for you. My daughter (who loves jeans and t-shirts, as long as they are black or grey and have minimal decoration) just got clothes from my mom (who loves to bargain hunt and thinks she knows what is the best for everyone and the best apparently has beads and sequins and lots and lots of glitter).
She got a HOT PINK tank top with a HUGE swirly heart on the chest ... in the middle of this heart is a sea of stars and glitter and the word SASSY like a neon sign saying "LOOK AT MY BOOBS< AREN"T THEY SASSY?!?!" Exactly the message a body conscious almost 15 year old wants written across her boobs.
Ummm, yeah. To say my mom is out of touch doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. She's been giving me cowl neck tops with embroidery and dangly embellishments all my life. I'm only too glad to pass this torch.
I do feel kind of sorry for the girl, though. I couldn't help but snicker. She was mortified when I asked if I could take a picture of it.
I did give her a hug when I said "Welcome to my world, little one."
She has been diligent drumming up extra jobs, though, just to make sure she has enough to buy presents for us while she is there. This morning, for instance, she got up, took a shower, and called my mom so that she could go over her house for the day. Her Nonnie can't get down on her knees and clean out cabinets or climb on top of the counters and dust of the chachkis on the highest shelves, but Jazz is a natural monkey.
She just came home from my mom's house with a funny smirk on her face. She was holding something behind her back and when I asked what she had, she asked me not to laugh. That was when I knew ... my mom got her clothes.
Let me spell this out for you. My daughter (who loves jeans and t-shirts, as long as they are black or grey and have minimal decoration) just got clothes from my mom (who loves to bargain hunt and thinks she knows what is the best for everyone and the best apparently has beads and sequins and lots and lots of glitter).
She got a HOT PINK tank top with a HUGE swirly heart on the chest ... in the middle of this heart is a sea of stars and glitter and the word SASSY like a neon sign saying "LOOK AT MY BOOBS< AREN"T THEY SASSY?!?!" Exactly the message a body conscious almost 15 year old wants written across her boobs.
Ummm, yeah. To say my mom is out of touch doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. She's been giving me cowl neck tops with embroidery and dangly embellishments all my life. I'm only too glad to pass this torch.
I do feel kind of sorry for the girl, though. I couldn't help but snicker. She was mortified when I asked if I could take a picture of it.
I did give her a hug when I said "Welcome to my world, little one."
