As you drive up Old Georgetown Road, the only sounds you hear are the caterwaul of Hot 99.5 and the clatter of your daughter’s fingers while texting.
You absentmindedly start humming along to Nicki Minaj. Your daughter freezes, looks up in horror, and then reaches over and changes the station. She goes back to texting.
You manage to not commit any further crimes against humanity and so the two of you find yourselves inside the mall. First stop: Abercrombie.
There you are assaulted by music so loud you go into cardiac arrhythmia and stagger slightly. Yes, you are THAT old. Your daughter flees to the back of the store lest your imminent demise draw any attention.
The sensory overload is so complete your brain shuts down. Your daughter materializes beside you. She exudes unhappiness. Has Never Shout Never just tweeted their breakup?
No. She announces to the air slightly to your left, “This place is sooo eighth grade,” and stalks out of the store.
You head out behind her. Through the ringing in your ears, you dimly hear squeals and “Omigods!” Your daughter has bumped into a group of her friends. There was less hugging at your wedding.
You reflect that your daughter and her friends last saw each other yesterday, not counting midnight Facebook activity.
As trained, you try to melt into a kiosk. You are nobody. You know nobody. You certainly don’t know your daughter.
But the kiosk guy gets really wants to sell you a Peruvian animal hat. He won’t take no for an answer. He sticks one on your head to demonstrate its cuteness.
You are 35 years too old to look cute in a knit animal hat. Plus, you have a really big head. You flee.
You throw caution to the winds and cheerfully greet your daughter’s friends: “Hi guys!” They mutter hello, and scatter like bowling pins.
Your daughter sighs heavily. She heads to Hot Topic. She picks out some tops that might work on a backup dancer in a Lady Gaga video. “Isn’t this so cute?”
You take deep breaths. You try to smile. You went to the “Good Enough Teen” talk at Whitman High School a few weeks ago. You get it!
She is not the “Second Coming of the Perfect You.” She is certainly not the Second Coming of the Better-Dressed You! She is trying to create an independent identity! You need to concentrate on her many, many wonderful qualities!
Unfortunately, these are not much in evidence when you decline to purchase the Lady Gaga backup dancer outfits.
Eventually, you compromise. The Gaga tops remain on the rack; but you ok some T-shirts. You’re not thrilled, but you can live with them. They have sleeves. And fronts. And backs. So much cotton! Suddenly you love them.
You head back out to the parking garage. She is happy. She starts chatting. You start chatting. Before you know it, you’re having a pleasant conversation. She smiles at you.
You smile back.
It’s good enough.
