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