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"The 70's called and they want their dress back"

It was a mostly typical morning. I woke up at 7:30 ready to gulp some coffee. The only difference in today, was it was Sunday and we were trying a new church. I was eager to get the day started right. I'd been feeling a bit hateful, a bit irritated with my family.  A bit like I needed a stiff drink and a Marlboro light.

I made some coffee, woke the chitlins and started dictating everyone.   As they stirred, I instructed them to come eat breakfast so they could get ready after.... I didn't want to be late.  We're always late.  I'd tried my best to take precautions the night before to ensure a successful morning. Everyone had a shower, we picked out our clothes, I mentally decided how I'd fix each girls hair, I had what they would eat for breakfast planned, The Bean's bag of crayons, snacks, and distractors so-I-can-actually-listen-to-preaching packed. 

I had my stuff together, I felt unstoppable.  

Let's get this day going! Mama needs to get to church before she flips out on all ya'll!

Nick (my husband of nearly 13 years whom I love so very much) rolled out of bed about 9:15, got himself ready,  got himself a cup of coffee, took a poop in peace and then walked into the living room where the kids were watching TV.  They'd already had their breakfast and everyone was dressed down to shoes and hairdos, with their stuff ready to go. Yes, of course I did it all on my own.  I'm good like that.  I was born to wrangle kids, and finally, after an hour of investing in everyone else, I had time to go brush my morning breath and maybe even get a quick shower. YESSSS.  Winnnn!

I was just about to be-bop happily away when he said "Morning babe...morning kids." and took a long sip of hot coffee.  I hadn't even got to have coffee yet.

I stopped and said "Morning to you."

Then his eyes wandered and locked on to our middle daughter and he got a distasteful look on his face. Then out  came from his mouth: "Hey Li  Li, the 70's called and they want their dress back."  She looked at him.  Her mouth opened.  She closed her mouth...she looked at me.  I looked at him with an even more distasteful look than he'd had on his own face before he allowed the insult to slip from his lips onto our beautiful little stylin' child's ego.

He glanced over at our oldest daughter, as if looking for backup, but then just as dissatisfied, asked "What are you wearing?! It looks like we shop at flea markets.  Laurel, serisouly...don't they have something better to wear?"  I informed him that we do shop at flea markets, all the flippin' time! I happen to love flea markets and second hand stores! Annnd actually  sir, I did buy these awesome dresses at a flea market!  And as for if they have something better to wear... I don't see anything wrong with what they're wearing.  New condition, name brand, awesome designs and color pattern.   Ummm, no.  No they don't.  What they are wearing is just fine. 

Chase, our only boy who is seven years old, then chimed in, all rude like and said "Yeah girls, ya'll wanna be hippies or somethin'?" For your information son and dear husband,  the 70's have totally made a comeback, and even if they hadn't, we like the style, we don't need approval. 
Like what are you,  the fashion police?

I felt highly offended.  I wanted to lash out.  I wanted to tell him to dress them then, take them shopping, impose on their free spirits. 

 I looked him up and down and he's wearing a camo dress shirt--  yes, they make such a thing.  We got it for him for Father's Day.  I considered telling him I should have bought him something I'd like, rather than what he likes.  You'd think that since someone wanted to be so critical, they'd check their own self first. Apparently, camo is acceptable and stylish to wear to church, but chevron and bright colors with swoopy sleeves isn't?!Seriously dude, back off!  The 70's wants their dress back.  pshhhhh

How bout' this, fashionista.
The woods called and wants their mossy oak back. 

End of rant. 







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