My motives are clear, 10-12 yrs is when 50% of kids try their first cigarette. The more time she is on the ice or in the gym tumbling the less time she is hiding behind the shed at someones house trying out her first Marlboro Red. Yes, a red. She's an over achiever that one.
She came home the other day in between a gust of Girl Scouts and religious education to tell me that the challenging teacher scorned her in class.
"Well, what did you do?"
"Well, I'll tell you what I didn't do! I didn't beg her not to yell or give her the satisfaction of crying. I did this"
Then and there, in my kitchen she fixed her gaze of emotionless contempt.
"Hon-thats still disrespectful."
"Mom, you have to earn respect."
And I couldn't even be upset because you know what? She's right.
She quickly jumped ship to continue with her new subject: Her Newest Friend.
"And mom! She said her house is HUGE. And the closets? Are this big" Where she spread her hands the length of the sliding glass doors. "And? They are floor to ceiling with toys."
I tried not to take that personally because in all fairness, real estate in Jersey is fucking insane and closet space is highly coveted. Obvia the childs mother taught her well in scoping well appointed selling features of East Coast living. The toys dig was palpable. I am tosser. We have scant amount of toys because I abide by the 30 day rule: if you don't see it, touch or think about it, it's garbage.
"Belle-how do you describe our house?"
Insert a fairly large eye roll, one encompassing a county or two: "Clean."
There you have it folks, I have a clean de-cluttered house, chock full of 10 year old contempt and a mother who is proud of a kid that won't buckle.
