Mom brought a couple of books home for me and Brian this afternoon. Some books by a man called Lloyd Alexander; shivery names like The Black Cauldron and the Return of the King. And Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat, for Brian. I told him he could read my books when I’m finished, but I don’t want to read about wolves.
And there was a surprise for me too, because Mom had ordered a pair of shoes for me from Simpson’s. They were on sale, real nice leather in two shades of brown. Mom said they’re like spectators or something. I wanted shoes like those, but Mom said before I couldn’t have them because she didn’t think they were good for my feet because they have big platforms kind of, though not as big as most of the ones the kids at school wear.
Anyway, they’re really nice and they fit just right. We’re wearing boots to school now because there’s snow a mile high and Mom said I should take the new shoes to school and keep them in my locker and wear them there. I think she wants to get them out of the house so Dad won’t see them and get mad. They were kind of expensive and anyway, Dad doesn’t like big heels on shoes for girls. He thinks they’re stupid and dangerous.
I went to The Bay on Saturday with Mom and we did some shopping. She bought some underwear for the boys and looked around with me for jeans and stuff. Am I ever hard to fit. Like there’s no other kids like me. I meant built like me. Whenever I saw a nice pair of jeans that I really, really liked they wouldn’t fit me. Mom kept giving me stuff to try on that I hated. They were awful pants, wide around the middle and skinny legs. She doesn’t even know what kids like to wear.
When I did find a pair of pants I liked and they fit okay, she said they were too tight and I wouldn’t be comfortable in them. Oh sure, how is she supposed to know if I’m comfortable in what I’m wearing? I’m wearing them, not her, aren’t I? And she wanted me to get long sleeve sweaters and jersies and I told her no one’s wearing long sleeves at school.
“It’s winter now Dear, and I want you to be warm. You can wear short sleeved things in the spring and summer.”
“Mom”, I said (I guess it really sounded more like whining and I hate people who whine) “It’s always hot at school. I’ll be plenty warm in short sleeves.” And I like skinny-rib sweaters and she wants me to wear baggy ones. She just has no sense of style at all.
“Are you certain, Dear”, she said, looking at the price tag. “That’s the pair of pants you want? I think the other ones suited you much better.”
“Look Mom, I know these cost more but they’re the ones I want. I like the way they fit much better than those creepy ones you want me to get.”
“You’re just a slave of fashion”, Mom said, getting kind of mad at me. “The other pants are perfectly good. The fabric is every bit as good as these, but these cost twice as much. You’re paying extra for the wide legs and distinctive styling. Why, they’re ludicrous … I wouldn’t want to wear them!”
“Mom, be reasonable.” I said that, but of course I didn’t expect her to be. What mother is reasonable after all? “You don’t have to wear them, you’re not thirteen-almost-fourteen. I am, and they’re what I want. What’s the point of buying the other ones, I’ll never wear them, they’ll just hang in my clothes cupboard. If you want to get me something I’ll wear, then you’ll buy what I like, not what you like.”
“Well, my dear child” Mom said (her temper definitely not improved by what I had said and I was kind of surprised at myself for what I said because it even sounded to me like I was talking down to her, even though we’re always being told we’ve got to be honest) “I think you are not being reasonable. I am trying patiently to explain to you that you are behaving like an unthoughtful person, reacting as a slave to current fashion rather than trying to evaluate what you’re getting for your consumer dollar. I suppose”, she said, heaving one of those great big sighs that warns me I’m going to get a comparison-lecture. “I suppose it’s because you’ve never had to work for anything yourself. Not that we’d want you to, of course, but you’d feel differently if you had to work for the money you’re spending so carelessly.”
What a drag! I mean about how hard it was for Mom and Dad when they were young, how glad they were to get anything that was given to them and all that. I know it’s true and all that, but why compare what happened so long ago to what’s happening now? Like, I know they’re going to get me stuff anyway, so why not the kind of stuff I want? And sure, I feel bad that I’m not pleasing Mom, but for crumbs’ sake, how about what I want! And she doesn’t always please me, and anyway, we’re always being told to be considerate, but they tell us to assert ourselves too, and what happens when we do? Well, wow!
“Mom”, I said to her, “please don’t start all that stuff again. I know things were different for you and I don’t want you to think that I‘m not grateful because it’s not true. It’s just that things are different now than when you were a kid all those years ago. Kids are different now.”
“Well!” she said, kind of huffy. “It wasn’t all that many years ago, I’m not exactly Methusalah, you know.”
“Who’s he?”
“Who?”
“Meth … oh, who you said.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake, I don’t know, someone in the bible who lived to a great ripe old age … I’m only using his name as an example. Look Jen, we’ll get you what you want, but please, please Dear, wear the stuff. I’m so sick of seeing half the clothes we get you being outgrown and you never wearing them.”
“That’s because it’s all stuff you liked and bought for me. I don’t like the dresses and skirts and stuff like that, don’t I keep telling you?”
Finally, it ended up me getting the stuff I liked (Hallelujah!), and Mom was in a bad mood and she kept telling me all the time like she does, to stop saying ‘like’ and to please put the ending on my words. She doesn’t like it when I say “goin’” and “tellin’” instead of “ing” like she says, but like I told her, everything’s changing from the kind of world she knew, and crap! That’s how all the kids talk. Except Larry. Yep, Brian too.
Later, Dad took us all to a second-hand sports shop and we all looked around at the sporting equipment. We got skis for Larry, Brian and me and we all got boots, nice leather ones, and poles and everything. Earlier in the week, Dad had brought home skis for him and Mom that he bought from somebody he works with and he brought them home on the bus, one pair each day and he said it was really awful. Bringing them home on the bus, I mean, like they’re heavy and awkward. He says he was lucky he wasn’t charged an extra fare for the skis. Now as soon as we get a fresh snowfall, Dad says we’re going to go out skiing. I can hardly wait.
It’ll be easy because all we have to do is put the skis on outside the side door and go right into the park and then the park just keeps going on right out of the subdivision and for miles it’s like a rough kind of park, called a greenbelt, where we can go cross-country, and it’s really nice. People go there from different parts of the city, to park their cars and go skiing, but we just have to go from our house; neat, huh?
No comments:
Post a Comment