I am the proud parent of a tween. It’s not as glamorous as it may seem, in fact, it is often times baffling. Today for example, I took my lovely daughter to Barnes & Noble. Let me preface this statement by interjecting parental perspective—she HATES to read. Literally loathes it and (I think) would rather be dropped off at school in clothes I picked out than be caught dead reading.
So here we are, finding ourselves in the biggest bookstore in West Olympia. We are there with my BFF and her daughters. Tiana strolls off with two other younger girls to keep an eye on them while my BFF and I saunter through the book shelves completely lost in book world. I am happily reading and relating to I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, when my daughter comes bounding at me begging to buy not one, but TWO books. I look at her and think to myself, “Is it really 2012 already?”
Her eyes are twinkling behind her nerd glasses* and she asked me once again if she could purchase two books. My stunned silence must have indicated that I didn’t think she was really talking to me so she repeated herself for the third time. “No!” I stammered. She looked at me with her mouth hanging open and then quickly went into tween sulk-and-be-pissy mode. I have to say, I think buying her a book would cause the future development of small countries to become deterred, because buying her a book would upset the balance of the universe that drastically.
After the decision was made that we would not be purchasing said books** she stomped around the store until we left. I felt bad, because let’s be truthful—I like getting my way too—so I asked if she would like to go to the mall and pick out new jeans. Immediately, she was back to the daughter I knew and was completely stoked about new clothes.
Once at the mall, I told her that we needed to shop the sales and she could only get two new pairs. She agreed*** and we were off. While she tried on jeans she complained that they weren’t “skinny” enough of a cut. Let it be known, I couldn’t even get a wrist in these jeans if I wanted to (which causes me to ponder laundering them). However, after many changes, we finally found the jeans that fit just right, are the right price, AND the right color. WHEW!
As we make our way out to the car, she getsquiet again. I get nervous. I need a simple day today and I feel like she’s gearing up to launch into a serious conversation that I’m not prepared for. So I do what any good American parent does…I plug in my iPod and blast some Lady Gaga completely dodging the situation. There! That should fix anything bothering her. Finally though, her shifty eyes have penetrated my right ear enough. I sigh heavily and turn down the music while simultaneously asking her what’s wrong.
She asks, “Can we go get my books now?”
The only thing I can think of this — some sort of body snatching happened inside the bookstore, and I need to go back and look for my precious baby. What else can explain this phenomenon?
*What’s up with those anyway? When I went to school, we used to punch the kids that wore glasses like that.
**Because in all honesty, I am going to gain HUGE parent points for buying them as Christmas gifts.
***THANK GOD I HAVE TAUGHT HER THE VALUE OF A SALE!!!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment