Olivia's switching schools from a small private setting to a large public setting this year so there's a lot of change going on with that. She's eager to try all the things a large school can offer. She feels like she's in the real world now. So far she's done a volleyball clinic, her regular swim club on campus, tried out for show choir and this week she's at band camp. She is loving all the fun of meeting new people and being part of something that involves more than 20 kids. We've never had to worry too much about dress codes and regulations. I get the impression that at the new school kids wear something other than what looks like pajamas on campus and that there's some attention to straps and appropriate lengths. I'm trying to make sure we follow all the rules and she doesn't end up embarrassed by some oversight on my part.
I don't like to be at odds with my daughter. I'll admit, we get along so well that I'm usually not prepared for some disagreement. My lack of preparation usually means things are gonna escalate. It's because I don't have enough time to consider whether this is worth the battle. This morning Olivia bounced downstairs in her Rolling Stones t-shirt (the logo with the open mouth, tongue out) and some decent length shorts. I love the Stones and I love the logo, but since she cut the sleeves out of the shirt there's a little gapping that happens that concerned me. If we were still at the beach, no problem, but a new school is not where I want to push the boundaries and if we are going to have an argument about what you're wearing, especially since I purchased it, I'm going to WIN the battle. I'm not asking for a collared shirt buttoned up to the top, but I was thinking adding a tank top to the ensemble would prevent any skin showing under her arm area and I was thinking at 7:30 a.m. that I don't need to explain the laundry particulars about how a shirt stretches out by the end of the day and even her sports bra is gonna still leave some problems. I was thinking how mortified she'd be if she were to be the one kid singled out for not following the dress code. Also, I was thinking that we've had this very same discussion about this very same shirt before. I was unhappy.
She was thinking it's hot. She was thinking maybe this time she could win the Last Word Contest. I reminded her that I hate arguing and that I'd rather save that for the big stuff like lofty ideas instead of shirts. I made some threats. She made some smart comments. I told her to get her own damn breakfast out of the oven and went outside with the dog to cool off. She was unhappy and muttering on her march back upstairs. Probably shot me a few birds while she grabbed her tank top. We both agreed to stop talking.
I acknowledge that I could have handled my part better. The storm passed, but I believe wholeheartedly in apologies so I made sure to apologize for losing my temper on our drive to camp. I assured her that no shirt was going to keep me from loving her. We talked about some stuff on the news. Laughed about that 94 year old store owner who told the robber he could take all the Tootsie Rolls he wanted, but she wasn't opening the cash register.
So everything was all right. She was back to her polite, happy self when she got her saxophone and lunch out of the back seat and breezed right past a male student sporting a shirt that says I LOVE BOOBIES. I'm sure he's dedicated to finding a breast cancer cure or something. I just had to take a moment with my head on the steering wheel while I guffawed.
Welcome to the real world, baby.
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