Aselin

Recovering from the hangover of our Mother's Day celebration, it's hard not to take stock of my influence as a mother. The day is filled with gushing speeches, tear-jerking NPR memorials and awkward moments as handmade gifts wrapped in paper bags as shoved at you.

While the Mother's Day celebration my family put on was fantastic - tasty breakfast, lovely gifts, poetry and I wasn't punked at church this year. All in all I considered it a fantastic success. Yeah.

That was until unnamed child #1 excitedly came in to my room jumping up and down about the $1 pleather Miley Cyrus pants they had purchased at WalMart. Pleather???? Miley Cyrus??? $1???

All the approbation I felt at the amazing bargain shopping accomplishment - and buying pants for a dollar is pretty dang good - was quashed by the selection of the garment. I mean really, PLEATHER??? I thought we had gone over this: pleather should not be purchased under ANY circumstances... even for a dollar. Just as I started hyperventilating, the kid felt like driving the nail into my coffin. "I am going to wear them in P.E." they excitedly declared.

What kind of P.E. class are you taking? Pole dancing? Sheesh.

As I'm speed-dialing the principal the kid assures me, "We all got them, we're going to wear them together." Oh, that makes everything better. Now they have an entire middle school pleather army learning pole dancing. That makes me feel muuuuch better.

Really, how can this happen. I am a responsible parent who thought I had effectively imparted important wisdom to my progeny. Clearly, with the intrusion of this newest pleather garment, I have failed.