The Mortification of a Teenage Daughter

Lately I have been stalking Pinterest for Christmas decoration ideas.  I’m not looking for just any Christmas decoration ideas, however.  No.  I am looking for Grinch-themed decoration ideas.  Not to worry.   These decorations won’t be for my own home.  No, no.  These decorations are for something far more appropriate — our church Christmas party.  Because, you know, nothing says “Remember the reason for the season” like going to a Grinch-themed Christmas party at church.

Bah humbug.

The theme for the party, however, was picked, approved and decided upon before I had anything to do with it.  Now that I do have something to do with it, I am in charge of the decorations.  Honestly?  I’ve found some cute ideas and come up with some good ones on my own, so I’m I little more excited about it.  But, still?  I turn to my network affiliates when I want my kids to enjoy the cartoon versions of Christmas.  I take them to church for (gasp!) more spiritual fare.  Whatever.

In all my Pinterest perusing of thing Grinchy and Whovillian, I came across a cute outfit idea.  It’s not a costume, mind you, just an outfit:  green skinny jeans, green t-shirt, green Converse, and a red cardigan.  I wasn’t looking for an outfit idea.  I just found it.  That’s how Pinterest works, after all.  You just find stuff, and it sucks  you in, and you realize you need it even though you didn’t know it existed five seconds earlier.  So that’s kind of what happened to me when I saw this outfit.  I concluded that, if I have to decorate for a Grinch party at Church, then I needed to go as the Grinch (without actually going as the Grinch).  I decided I’m just too old to buy myself Grinch-green Converse high-tops, but red is a good color for me so I already have a bunch of it, and I figured the green jeans would be cute.  I found a pair on clearance at Kohl’s, and, coupled with the current coupon (who in her right mind shops at Kohl’s without a coupon?) they cost all of $8.00 and change.  That included tax.

Rather than wait until December, I wore my outfit today to our Super Saturday Holiday Workshop (it’s the one day a year the women in our congregation “take off” for 4-6 hours (depending on whether or not one is in charge of it) (I was) to get together and make crafts that we can give as gifts) (so imagine our piss-off-ed-ness consternation when the men scheduled something, rather last minute, on the same day at the same time, as if the children only belong to us) (harrumph).

Anyway, back to the outfit.  I wore it today.  Green jeans, white t-shirt, red jacket.  It was quite Christmas-y and, since the t-shirt was not green, not even a bit Grinchy (at least, I like to think that).  I still had it on as we were sitting together as a family for dinner tonight, and I said, “I’m half tempted to go back to Kohl’s and get the same jeans in red.”

“Other than Christmas, when would you ever wear red jeans, mom?”  A~ asked.

“I could wear red jeans lots of times,” I said.  “Like Valentines day!”

“Yeah, and you can wear the green ones again on St. Patrick’s day,” Midge piped in.

“Sure.  And . . . let’s see . . . I could wear either the red or the green ones on Mardi Gras.  That’s a colorful holiday.  It doesn’t really matter what color . . .” I was saying as my husband interjected:

“I don’t know about the jeans, but I’ve got some Mardi Gras beads I’ll give you.”

A~’s hand froze, half way to her mouth, and the baby carrot she was about to eat just dangled from her paralyzed fingers as she looked at her plate in dismay and said, “I get that.  I get. that. one!”  With me to her right and her father at the other end of the table to her left, she didn’t know where to look, so she just kept staring at her plate while I laughed hysterically, her father turned a soft shade of fire-engine red and sniggered like a school boy who’d just been caught snapping a girls’ bra strap, her younger teenage sister tried to puzzle it out in her head, connecting a dot or two, and the three youngest just said, “What?  What?!?  I DON’T get it!  WHAT IS SO FUNNY???”

June Cleaver would be mortified at both my attire and our dinner conversation, not to mention the current state of my house.  I shall never wear pearls.

Tewt the Newt, on the other hand, couldn’t give a flying fig about pearls and feels mighty smug about the fact that he is already green.

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