So, I’m trying to find something to wear this morning and am so sick of looking at the same tired items in my closet. I’m in a never-ending battle with my weight, so I have many different sizes represented on my hangers. I hate this. I finally found something I thought would do. I got dressed and looked in the mirror, unsure if I looked presentable or just plain dumpy. So…I did what I swore I’d never do – I asked my 12-year-old daughter if I looked fat. I know, I know – just when she’s entering puberty and will be starting to face her own demons (fat will not be one of them, I’m certain). But I had to know. Of course, never one to hurt someone’s feelings nor one to lie, Keile looked at me and then at the pants and insisted that they didn’t make me look like a cow (my terminology, not hers). But I saw that second’s hesitation!
So, I moved on to my 6-year-old, whose honesty is still rock solid, untainted by peer pressure or the overwhelming urge to play nice. “Yes,” she replies to my fat question. And there you have it. This girl has a future on “What Not to Wear.” This is why I love shopping with her. We’ll go into the dressing room together and just rip through the items – “That’s ugly, Mommy.” “No way.” “Haha, you look silly.” Or, my favorite, when she just busts out laughing at something I’ve tried on. Not only do I save money on these shopping trips, but I’ve also developed a pretty thick skin.
I love how different my girls are from one another. And I love to watch Keile teaching her little sister, too. When Blane told me I looked fat this morning, Keile looked at her disgustedly, to which Blane replied, “I’m just kidding.” She’s learning…but I hope she doesn’t succumb totally to the pressure of niceties. I cherish her honesty, even when it stings a little.
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