Emily walked out of her bedroom this morning wearing a shirt that had more slashes and cuts on it than a pair of jeans at a 1987 Bon Jovi concert. She could tell by the look on my face that I did NOT approve.
“Oh it’s okay … the principal said that we could wear these.”
“Oh really …. well the momma says that you can’t.”
Door slamming. Foot stomping. Eye rolling.
“Go ahead and be mad at me, I don’t care. You aren’t wearing that to school.”
More door slamming. More foot stomping. More eye rolling.
She changed clothes and off we went to school, but before I let the girls out at the cafeteria, I said, “if you lie to me, you are in worse trouble …. do you have that shirt with you?”
Beth reached into her bag and handed it to me. So not only did Emily try to sneak it to school, she made her sister an accomplice.
I just looked at Emily (as she sat there with her jaw dropped) and said, “this ain’t my first rodeo sister.”
She slammed the car door.
I waited until I drove away to laugh.