Lest You Forget, Mom Always Has the Upper Hand  

Posted by Heidi in ,

Shhhh! I have just received some secret photos via email, photos of the Middle Child carousing about and otherwise being naughty whilst she was out of town at the Ashland Oregon Shakespeare Festival. If I had known Ashland was such a den of depravity, I would never have allowed her to go. So, here it is, a word to the wise . . .

This is the Middle Child with her adorable and sensible friend (with whose grandparents the girls went to the festival to feast on Shakespeare, not, I repeat, not racoon eyes). The Hat; I knew she owned this hat but I have never seen her wear it. The fact that she looks smashing in it has nothing to do with, well with . . , with anything, that's what!

And here I was fearing my daughter would refuse to commune with makeup until she was at least 33.

Yet, it gets worse.




This is the Middle Child, my middle child, attempting to steal a very cool vintage purple bike, most likely a Schwinn, a bike very much like the one I owned at her age (vintage even then--yes, it's true!) only it wasn't purple, mostly rusty, which was stolen from in front of my house during a garage sale by a punk of a kid whom I spotted riding around on it before he took off down the street, never to be seen again. I hope he enjoyed it, rust and all. The punk.



Here she is looking oh-so-Avril-Lavigne whilst secretly coveting the car to her right. Only, she told me about it so I guess it isn't so secret. At least it isn't anymore. Take that, Middle Child! Your secret is out!
But still, it gets worse.




Here she is bumming around, literally, with a bottle in her hand. So what if it is only root beer--isn't this a fore-shadowing of times to come? And the racoon eyes!?!?! The kid is 13! Again, MC, Ashland is so not La la land! What were you thinking? That you were away from your mother's tender care and vigilant observation? That no one would find out? Stab me in the heart another dozen times, why donja?






Note the chocolate around the mouth, the young and tender barely-a-teenaged-mouth, the one that looks so incongruent under those racoon eyes.
I guess this is what thirteen is all about, experimenting, pushing the boudaries, testing the waters, playing with fire . . .
So, a word to the wise, a warning, call it what you will; watch yourself or pics of you in your diapers (or not) will be all over the internet. You know who you are . . .

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 12, 2008 at Tuesday, August 12, 2008 and is filed under , . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .

6 wise, witty and wonderful comments

Oh, the angst! To be 13 again. Oy, Vay!

August 13, 2008 at 5:38 PM

Is fourteen any better? I'm not sure. Like I can stop it from happening . . .

August 13, 2008 at 6:39 PM

I think she's super cute. She's a very pretty girl - she looks a lot more like you than I realized.

August 15, 2008 at 9:39 PM

Jessica, bless your cotton pickin' heart! My inlaws think she is all Ashworth but I think she looks at least 50% like my side of the family . . .

August 15, 2008 at 10:28 PM

Not really knowing any other Ashworth family member except Roy, I must take exception. She is totally you (or is it Holly). I remember you at that age and she is her moms little clone.
Roxanne

August 16, 2008 at 7:31 AM

Oh, thank you! I think she is rather pretty so that is a very nice compliment!

August 16, 2008 at 9:43 AM

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