Please forgive the selfie here, but I had a “Good job, Mom”moment, and I wanted to share.
You have to understand that, since the day I was born, my mother has been trying to dress me in anything that was frilly, lacy, had a bow somewhere, was in a pastel color, and was a dress or skirt and blouse.
In short, much like Angela Rizzoli, my mother wanted me to dress “like a girl.”
Since the day I was born, I detested this practice. Even as a baby, I would pull, tear, and/or rip said frilly clothing. I cried. I wailed. I hated it.
In the year since I rolled out of her clutches and she could no longer dress me as she pleased, I’ve managed to created my own style of dress, and, though others seem to think I have a sense of fashion, my mother thinks I dress too much like a man.
You can imagine my panic when Mom called me to tell me she found “the PERFECT sweater” for me. I thought to myself, “Oh Lord, I hope she didn’t spend a lot on this because the odds of my liking it are about on par with the odds of my winning the lottery.”
I apparently need to buy a lottery ticket. For once, she hit the nail on the head, and I really like this sweater. I mean, I like it a lot. The military style is just lovely. I’m so shocked that I like this piece of clothing that I’m still in a daze that this happened.
I’m so proud of my mom. She finally realized that I grew up, and she’s finally respecting my choices on things as simple as how I dress.