This whole growing up thing is not working for me. I'm thinking of putting a brick on her head to stop her from growing.
Don't get me wrong. It's nice that she can help babysit the littles and can reach her own cereal, but it's so sad to realize that I am now a "lame" mama instead of the one and only "Moooommmmyyy" she used to call out for. She tries to inform me about the things that are cool these days, and I promptly roll down the window in the Volv-Ro and holler, "See ya after school, H-Dizzy da Dawg!" She likes that about as much as I like a visit to Wal-Mart.
A few things she has informed me about lately:
1. Even I need a pair of TOMS to pass as cool. I thought being able to buy hooch without getting carded made me cool.
2. Dubstep. Google it if you don't know what it is. She explained it to me. Along with teaching me how to pronounce Wiz Khalifa. She doesn't think it's funny when I play the Eagles with a piece of cheesecloth over the speaker and jokingly call it Dubstep.
3. Her friends think I'm okay...for a parent. It seems I am not as lame as some of the other moms. I bet money it has to do with all the Vanilla Ice I play in the car.
4. It is better to have $65 jeans with holes in them from some store in the mall that gives me a migraine than it is to take the jeans you already own, hang them on the clothes line, take a couple of shots with 000 Buck Shot, and pretend they are $65 jeans with holes in them from the migraine inducing teen store.
Thank goodness I can buy hooch without getting carded; there's no way we'd both survive her adolescence any other way.
