Youngest Child

Here is a sure sign of a parent at the tale-end of raising her last child:

Today is Picture Day at Ellie’s school. Last night we had this conversation:

Ellie: What should I wear for school pictures?

Me: I don’t care. Wear whatever you want.

Ellie leaves the room and comes back 20 seconds later holding two shirts on hangers.

Ellie: Which of these shirts should I wear?

Me: I don’t care. Wear either one.

Ellie: Just tell me which one to wear!

Me: OK, the one on the left.

Ellie: But I wore that one last year.

Me: Then wear the one on the right.

Ellie: Are you sure?

Me: Yes!!!

Ellie: Will it make the blue in my eyes pop?

Me: Yes. The blue in your eyes will pop right out of your head.

Ellie: Mom, I’m serious! What color shirt will make the color of my eyes pop the most?

Me: Just don’t wear red. You don’t want the bloodshot color of your eyes to pop.

Ellie: MOM!!!

Ellie again: What pants should I wear?

Me: I don’t care!!! Besides, no one is going to see your pants in the picture.

Ellie: MOM!!!

Ellie again: Should I wear my hair curly or straight?

Me: I don’t care.

Ellie: Just tell me!!!

Me: OK, straight.

Ellie: OK, I’ll wear it curly.

Me: Fine. I don’t care.

When she left this morning for Picture Day, I think her hair was curly, but I have no idea what shirt she wore.

When my oldest daughter was in school, I would to start thinking about what she would wear for Picture Day when we did her school clothes shopping in August. I would sometimes go shopping just to find the right shirt for Picture Day. But I’ve raised four kids and I really don’t care anymore. I have been through too many school picture days.

Before you start feeling terribly sorry for poor Ellie, I was also the youngest in my family and my mom didn’t care what I wore for school pictures either. And somehow I still graduated from high school AND college AND I have never spent a single day incarcerated.

So it all somehow works out, even for the youngest child.