This morning, I committed the unpardonable sin of trying to give my daughter a solid colored shirt to wear with her jeans.
WHAT WAS I THINKING???
Thank goodness I was properly and scathingly reprimanded for my complete and embarrassing lack of fashion sense, otherwise I would probably never learn.
This motherhood thing is working out to be a real pain in the butt this week, let me tell you. I adore my girl, but the mood swings, the disrespect, the arguing - oh my God, the arguing. She'll argue a point into the dirt and keep going till she hits bedrock. She'll even argue on both sides of the disagreement, if I dare to show any sign of compromise. She'll argue just to feel air coming out of her mouth, I swear to God.
Oh, ain't puberty grand?
I'm hoping I put an end to this nonsense with my carefully chosen words:
"Why are you deliberately irritating your mother a few days before your birthday? Especially when Friday is payday and it's your Dad's weekend with you so I'm free to shop or do whatever I want? Is that smart, do you think?"
And that is how you spike guns, people.
She may be tiring me out with the skirmishes, but I still hold the purse strings and have a secret supply of guilt napalm I can lob with impunity. Oh no, little girl, you do not want to mess with mama.
I think I'm going to buy myself a Swedish massage instead of that iTunes gift card for her. Hey, my birthday is five days after hers, you know.
All's fair in puberty and war...