SWEET THIRTEEN

(This is dedicated to my grown daughter, Susan, whom I did not kill.)

My 13-year-old daughter is a dingbat. One morning this week, as I made her bag lunch, she walked through the kitchen asking, "Where is my shoe?"

"Shoe"? I asked. I looked down and, sure enough, she wore two socks and one shoe. I knew I would get a battery of insults if I suggested that it was probably within three feet of where she found the one she was wearing. So I tried to reword it and asked, "Where was that shoe?"

She returned to her source, searched, reappeared, and said, "It's not there. Where is it?"  I regretted having to tell her that the revelation had not come to me during her absence. But I did agree to make her toast while she continued searching.

As I buttered her toast, she arrived, fully shod - and wearing my sweater. She asked (a little after the fact, if you ask me) if she could wear it today, and I said "NO!" It was then that she flipped out.  In the first place, I was mean and selfish. And in the second place, I hadn't done the laundry. And, thirdly, I hadn't ironed her shirt from the last laundry day (which was really my shirt).  She stormed back to her room, fussing and slamming drawers. I could hear this from the kitchen. Then I heard her in my bedroom complaining loudly (not quite yelling) to her dad, "Mom hasn't done the laundry!"

I tried to stay cool, sitting down to eat breakfast and hoping my husband was properly defending me. I resisted the temptation to bite the bait and go for her throat. 

Pretty soon, she entered the kitchen buttoning a wrinkled shirt. I asked, "Why don't you wear the clean sweater you wore last night?"

"It doesn't match these jeans! I would never wear that sweater with these jeans!" I must have been insane to suggest it.

The school bus came. I held the door open and watched Susan buzz through the house in search of her coat, then bolt out the door. I slammed it with a few choice words.

My husband peeked around the corner looking perplexed. I laughed. "She's thirteen." I looked at a note she had left for me the day before. It said, "Love, Suzi," with a big heart drawn around it. My heart warmed. However, I did not retract the Mother's Curse: "I hope you grow up and have a daughter who acts just like you do!"