Jackie-O, We're Not

The kids filed in one by one. Sixth grade girls in black skirts and white blouses, fifth grade boys in navy blue pants and white oxfords, fourth grade girls in black slacks and white t's. And then came Mackenzie. She was wearing a white t-shirt with denim shorts and pink flip-flops. She was laughing when she walked in, taking her place on the risers and flashed us the peace sign, while mouthing, "I feel like a redneck." Tater and I busted up laughing at The Girl Who Was Her Mom.

The last thing Tater had said before we left the house for her Spring Chorus Concert was, "Is that what you're wearing?"

"Yes. Our teacher said white on top, dark on the bottom."

"You're wearing blue jean shorts."

"Well, they're dark-ish. Besides, my legs are tan."

And I jump in as if it will help: "Yeah. It's not like they're singing for the Queen of England. It's a bunch of parents on a Thursday night in the cafeteria. She's fine."

(Looking back on this, my tendency to wear jeans/shorts Everywhere, my refusal to wear panty hose Ever, and my general feeling that everyone needs to just Relax should have sent up a red flag and exempted me from voicing any opinion.)

So he conceded.

Only to give me that look, an hour later as the kids all file in wearing their fancy duds. You know the look. The one that says, "When are you going to grow up and act like a Mom? This is yet another example of your 'Alternative Parenting Style' gone awry."

So she sang her way through 7 or 8 songs, looking slightly uncomfortable, but not any more uncomfortable than the kids wearing their Sunday (Funeral) Best, and as the teacher dismissed them, she took the mike and told the parents, "Your child may have left something in my room they need to get. Otherwise, you can take them from here."

Tater turned to me and said, "She probably needs to go get her beer and cigarettes." Causing me to laugh louder than socially acceptable.

And making our Mills Family Spectacle complete.