Middle-Aged Mama

If you're under thirty, you shouldn't be reading this blog.

Yesterday, the Matron donned an adorable green and red, sorta flowered shirt, that she purchased from Old Navy. Said shirt has puffy sleeves and ties behind the back. In short, she was Fashion Mogul.

It is 6:15 on the first day of school. The Matron is wearing her spiffy shirt while downing her daily dose of the vitamins and supplements that promise to keep hip replacement at bay.

He Who Cannot Be Named: "Mom, where did you get that shirt?"

Matron: "Good morning to you, too! Old Navy! Isn't it great?"

HWCBN: "I don't mean to be insulting, but that's a shirt for a thirteen-year old. I'M even too old for that shirt. If I was a girl, that is."

Matron: "Really? But I like it!"

HWCBN: "That's because you like children. It doesn't mean you should dress like one."

After that ego boost, HWCBN loped off to his bus (at 6:34 a.m., Lord help them all). The next in line appeared in the kitchen, where the Matron was in the midst of an endless stream of bacon, eggs, and lunch boxes.

Scarlett: "Mom, whose shirt is that?"

Matron: "Mine! It's new. Do you like it?"

Scarlett: "Um . . . . "

Matron: "What?"

Scarlett: "Don't you think that's a little too fashionable for a mother?"

Matron: "Can't mothers look good?"

Scarlett: "Not really. I don't plan on having any children."

Now the Matron is really feeling good about herself, her wardrobe, and her daughter's perspective on maternity.

Scarlett goes off to her bus (7:10, better).

John stumbles into the kitchen: "What day is it?"

Matron: "First day of school, Tuesday."

John: "New shirt?"

Matron (finally nearing approval!): "Yes! Isn't it great?"

John: "You look like you're fourteen. Wearing your hair in two pony-tails adds to the distortion."

Matron: "Distortion?"

John (awakened by the understanding that this is now a potential for no sex for about six months): "Bad word choice! I just meant you're beautiful and that's a youthful look for you. Really flattering. People might veer away from the big flowers on the shirt and go right to your tight little butt. So yes, great shirt. Highlights your assets. That's quite the montage of red and green, isn't it?"

Whereupon the Matron immediately went upstairs and changed shirts, hoping to spare herself a fourth round with Merrick.

Can't these people wake up simultaneously?

Merrick is roused.

Merrick: "Mama? What awe you weawing?"

Matron: "What do you mean, what am I wearing? Work clothes! I teach today."

Merrick: "Did Gwandma Mawy buy that shiwt for you?"

Sometimes you just can't win. Pass the bifocals and Vogue magazine, please.