My daughter is why I have gray hair. She's why I feel so stressed and inadequate as a parent. It's a gift she has. A talent. If she had been our first born, she'd have been our last. I swear!

Case in point:

She needed white tennis shoes for her dance recital. I picked some up Friday night before I came home from work. I got cheap Hanes sneakers. Thin soled, light weight, perfect for dancing and jumping in. And, if she never wore them again, not out much money.

Boy am I stupid.

She went ballistic. "These are U.G.L.Y. I'm NOT wearing them."

I tried reasoning, reminding her that she was going to wear them once. ONCE. I reminded her that she never wears tennis shoes. She gripes all winter long about tennis shoes. I mush have been hearing things, because I was informed that she LIKES tennis shoes, that I never buy her any cool or nice ones.

Right.

So, Saturday morning, before practice, we ran to Walmart, returned the shoes, and she picked out her own pair. Chunky, clunky, boys tennis shoes. For a dance recital.

Whatever. She wore them, was happy, and managed to dance reasonably well in them.

This morning, I wrote out the last lunch check for the school year. $78.00. For Kat's lunches.

I was a "little" hot about owing so much money. Monthly lunches are $35.00. Why do I owe $78.00? Because little miss "responsible" had lost her April lunch check.

"Is it in your trapper?"

"No. I swear Mom, I turned it in. I swear."

"let me see your trapper."

"You never believe me. I turned it in. It's NOT in my trapper."

"Let me see your trapper."

"NO. It's not there. I TURNED IT IN."

"Give me the trapper."

Looking in the trapper, I find the check. Wadded up, shriveled up in the bottom of her trapper, April's lunch check. "Kat, what's this?"

"Oh. I don't know how it got there, I swear I turned it in."

Of course she did.