Classic Fit

(scene opens in clean dinning room)

Beta: (runs in) Mom! Look!

Me: (looks up from laptop)

(Beta proudly wearing a Chicago Cop leather jacket)

Me: Oh my god. It fits you.

Beta: I know! Dad didn’t think it was going to fit!

Me: You should wear that to school.

Beta: Why?

Me: Because it’s cool and deserves to be worn. Your Aunt K painted the back of that jacket.

Beta: She did?

Me: Yeah. Your dad asked how much she charged and she said $100. $150 if she didn’t like someone. So your dad paid her $200.

Beta: That’s awesome. But why?

Me: Just in case.

Fashionista

(scene opens in wind-swept parking lot, Carrot hand-in-hand with Delta. They both head to a kid salon. Delta has a sheep’s worth of blond curls on his head)

(cut scene to Carrot and Delta exiting salon, Delta possessing considerably less hairs, very nearly shorn)

Delta: (despondent) I don’t like my hair this way.

Me: (sympathetically) I know, baby. She took off way more than I expected. It’ll grow back.

Delta: I don’t think it looks good. I want my hair to be longer.

Me: (with compassion) I like long hair too. Dad thought you needed it out of your face because it was getting so moppy and bothering you at school. As you get older and as you get better at caring for it yourself, you can grow it longer.

Delta: (gloomy) It doesn’t look good like this.

Me: Oh honey, you’re still my handsome boy.

Delta: (with formal chill) Mother, don’t call me handsome looking like this. This is not handsome hair.

Carrot’s Inner Voice: Oh, my heart, she breaks!

Me: (resolute) You are handsome even with short little spikey hair. It will grow back quickly and you can let it shag out all summer long.

Delta: (partially mollified) Very well.

(Delta climbs into mini-van, scene fades to black)

She’s got the look

(rapid fire montage of Gamma coming down stairs in ratty and/or dirty pants)

Me: Go upstairs and put on some nicer pants.

Gamma: (dramatically) These are the nicest ones I have!

(repeat for at least fifteen different scenes, various times of day and seasons)

(scene opens in sawdusty garage, half painted bench resting on paper)

Me: (in clothes obviously meant for sloppy work, touching up hard to reach spots)

Gamma: (just off screen) Oops. I got paint on my pants.

(Carrot looks over, camera turns)

Gamma: (standing in pristine white shirt, brand new unblemished jeans now bearing a dark maroon lean spot on the thigh)

Me: (irrationally calm) Gamma? I’ve never seen those pants before. Are they new?

Gamma: (brightly) Amazing what you can find in the bottom of a very deep and dark drawer.

(Carrot begins to tremble, screen fades to black)

Experience Counts

(scene opens in cluttered kitchen)

Carrot: (cooking dumplings)

Husband: (hovering)

Gamma: (runs in, lips blue and glittery, holds up eyeshadow pallet) Mom! When can I use the eyeshadow?!

Carrot: (distracted) I forgot to order brushes. I’ll pick some up tomorrow and you can play around with it.

Husband: She can use sponges for that, right? (Goes to mudroom cabinet)

Carrot: What? Wait! No! She can’t use those!

Husband: Why not? I used them to put on make up.

Carrot: Clown make-up!

Husband: I fail to see the difference.

Carrot: Point. But no. Could everyone just believe the one person in this room that actually has worn make-up? I’ll get the right brushes tomorrow.

Husband: I’ve worn make up. I’m also the person who has worn make-up most recently.

Carrot: CLOWN MAKE-UP!

Husband: Again, I fail to see the difference.

Did you eat them?

(scene opens in dinning room)

Husband: (grouchy) Beta is wearing shorts.

Me: (too through) I told him to go through Alpha’s dresser for jeans if they’re not in his.

Husband: They say they don’t have any. Alpha has been wearing the same shorts for two weeks now.

Me: But…I went to Goodwill. In a mask. I bought a dozen. It’s a pandemic. We. Haven’t. Been. Anywhere.

Husband: (throws up hands)

Me: (still confused) All the laundry has been done.

Husband: I told them at lunch they’re going up to their room and finding all their pants.

(the two stare at one another)

Me: It’s gonna get real cold in here when the Polar Vortex comes and they have no pants.

Husband: I doubt that will motivate them.

There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo

(scene opens in Woodman’s grocery, everyone masked, social distancing)

Me: (finds herself in aisle with two other women, pulls over to let traffic clear, keeps social distancing)

Woman #1: (starting to pass, wearing paper mask) That is a lovely mask, it fits so well!

Woman #2: (stops, well fitting cloth mask) Thank you, I made it myself!

Woman #1: I’ve been trying to find a place to get one, I’m running out of the paper ones.

Woman #2: Oh! I can make you one! Give me your contact information and I’ll send you one tomorrow.

Woman #1: Really? Oh! That would be lovely!

(women exchange information, turn to look at Carrot)

Woman #2: I’m sorry, we’re blocking traffic.

Me: I’m good. Carry on. No rush.

Best Dressed

(scene opens in apocalypse parlor)

Husband: (enters from the kitchen) I have a video conference call. Do I look okay?

Me: (looks up from lap top) Well, I love that color shirt on you, the tie is fabulous and the hat really brings it together)

(boys collectively turn to see Husband wearing a black octopus hat)

Beta: Now you need to wear the Plague Doctor mask.

Me: No, he needs to ration them out.

Alpha: Next time you can wear the Moose Hat.

Husband: Wore that last time.

Beta: You can borrow our Rainbow Poop Hat.

Husband: No.

Beta: Why not?

Me: Too unprofessional.

Husband: (turns, nods, tossing a tentacle over his shoulder, exits stage left)

Shieldmaiden starter kit

(scene opens in tossed parlor)

Me: Gamma, can you help me pick up all the Quirkle tiles? Delta threw them all over?

Gamma: Sure mama. (gets down to scoop them up)

Me: So, I need to make you a new dress this weekend. A friend of daddy and mine is going to be king soon, and we wanted to go to Coronation.

Gamma: (eyes wide) Your friend is king? What does that mean we’re going to do?!

Me: Going to be. Remember we get a new one every six months? So we’re going to go to Coronation to wish him well and be happy for him. But that means we all need new garb, especially you. Do you want a blue dress? A pink dress? Red? Green?

Gamma: (dreamy delight) I want a black one. With skulls.

Me: (starts to laugh) Black with skulls?

Gamma: (still dreamy) I was born to fight. (snaps back) I will do well in the SCA.

(Cue epic sound track, mother tearfully hugs daughter, fade to black, cut to car commercial)

Frickin’ Fabulous

(scene opens in Tricoci University, students working on clients and mannequins)

Me: (Flounces to counter, resplendent in galaxy colored hair, followed by compliments and murmurs of approval from students and instructors)
Old Lady: (turns to look who’s behind her at the counter)
Me: (smiles brilliantly)

(scene repeats several times, Old Lady looking back then away, trying to hide a smile, finishes up making her appointment)

Old Lady: (finally) I just wanted to tell you, you look like a unicorn.
Me: (delightedly sharing Old Lady’s glee) I know! It was the effect I was going for!
Old Lady: (surprised, recoils) Really!? (shakes her head in disapproval and totters off)
Me: (WTF look)
Fabulous Host: (muttering to himself) Like that would have happened on accident.
Me: Right? By the way, love the nails.
FH: Thanks! (waggles inch long glitter acrylics honed to a deadly point)

Fashion Commentary

(scene opens in parlor)

Me: (scrutinizing daughter) Did you get those pants from grandma for Christmas?
Gamma: (jumping around) I don’t know.
Me: I like the color, but they look awfully snug.
Gamma: That’s just the fashion, momma.
Me: (frowns) I’m not a big fan of jeggings. Do you like them?
Gamma: (bouncing on a mini trampoline) Yes! They’re pretty!

(follows several scenes of daughter running through room, mother staring perplexed)

Me: (resigned) Gamma, come here please. I need to look at those pants.
Gamma: (obediently walks over, turns round so mom can check tag)

(camera close up on size 4T)

Me: Oh dear gods, you’re wearing your little brother’s pants.
Gamma: So?
Me: You’re eight. He’s three. Go take them off and change into something else!
Gamma: I was wondering why they were a little tight.

Power of Fashion

(scene opens in mini-van)

Me: Thank you for coming with me to pick out a graduation outfit.
Alpha: (simmering) Why can’t I just wear a nice shirt and my black pants?
Me: (tiredly) Because this is a graduation. It is a formal event. You need something better than the black polo grandma got you for the party.
Alpha: But no one ever wears a suit!
Me: (hotly) They do! You just ignore them in favor of pointing out all the kids who are going to show up in their jeans and Jordans. Tell you what – if you want to wear a black suit and a black tie, you can do that. It doesn’t have to be goofy colors.
Alpha: (softens) Like John Wick?
Me: (hopeful) Exactly like John Wick.
Alpha: (mulling) That sounds good.
Me: (performs mental Victorious Picard)

For posterity

(scene opens in screaming banshee theater, sometimes known as the foyer)

Alpha: I want to wear what I want to wear!
Me: I just want you in a collared shirt! You want to be able to choose what you wear in the school photos, then you give me a week’s advance notice instead of forcing me to hunt down the photographer’s website and hunt for the school’s scheduled picture day based solely on the paperwork information your sister brought home for her picture day at a completely different school and a completely different day! You didn’t even know today was picture day until I told you!
Alpha: (sullen) School photos aren’t the real me.
Me: (snarls) School photos are for me and grandmas and all the other lame old ladies in your life that want lame cute photos of you hanging on their wall.
Alpha: Fine! (leaves stage left, slams door)