Saturday, March 5, 2011

Wait, I'm Not Cool?

I never thought it would happen, but today my daughter told me I wasn't cool.


I've always considered myself, for better or worse, to be a much cooler adult than I ever was a student.

How could I not have been cool with such large hair?  Feel free to laugh...I know I am.  Hey, it was the 80's. Big hair was in, right?  Hello?   Who's with me?   ((crickets))

I listen to cool iPod app has everything from Lady GaGa to random musical selections from movies to Michael Buble.

I try not be too dorky in my clothing choices.
But to be fair, I looked like this when we were out today...

Little man was sick and for most of the day we snuggled.  Here we are waiting at the doctor's office.  We are both looking pitiful.  Not pretty. No makeup.  Breakout happening on my 39 year old chin which I'm strategically hiding...
By the way, what is that all about? I thought once I hit 30 my days of using Clearsil would be over.  But nooooooo.  I'm still crusing the zit cream section of the grocery store. Maybe my oldest is on to something with the not cool thing...
On a normal day I make some effort to at least wash my face before going out.  I'd look more like this...

 ( I used the hipstamatic app on my iPhone. It makes it look as though my skin is pretty and I have makeup on. Everyone needs a hipstamatic app.   I really don't have makeup on.  I was too lazy to try today.   I haven't even showered.  I did put deoderant on and brushed my teeth before I took my oldest out.  Too much information?  Just keeping it real, my friends.)

But Not Cool?

It's so blatant.  So cold.  So very much a blast to the past.

Now this isn't some tirade about how I was misunderstood in school blah blah blah.  I had a  great childhood.  No major traumas.  I don't think I was in a clique, but I did have a close group of friends in high school...maybe that was my clique? I just can't think of how we would have been categorized since we weren't jocks or cheerleaders... maybe "The Regular People"?

Anyway, my daughter's revelation came to her  as we sat at a stop light,  me dancing in the car to a pretty great Usher song, and it did cause me to pause and think....

Am I uncool?

 The opposite of what I think I am?

The very thing I had hoped NOT to be?

I probably am totally NOT cool to her.  But in my mind, my daughter doesn't have to think I'm cool.  I'm not trying to be her friend.  I'm her mom.  And maybe it is what daughters do--- at some point they come to their own ideas about coolness.

And that's a good thing.

Unless she decides that Justin Beiber is cooler than me.

That most certainly is NOT cool.

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