Michelle is going on a two night trip to the mountains with school. She will be gone approximately 48 hours which, coincidentally, is the same amount of time it took us to pack.
It went like this:
“I have nothing to wear on this trip!”
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“You have three dressers and a closet full of clothes.”
“But none of it is right for this trip.”
“You are going to the mountains for school. You wear yoga pants, t-shirts and a coat! You have all of said items.”
She looked at me as if I could not possibly understand what was going on in that little mind. Her look was warranted.
She began digging in her middle drawer and pulled out a pair of black pants made of stretchy material. “I’ll wear these on the way down. Actually, could you check the weather?”
“By all means Vera Wang. It’s going to be 65 tomorrow, 63 on Thursday with possible rain and only 47 on Friday.”
“Then should I wear these pants instead?” She held up a different pair of black stretchy pants.
They are both black; they are both long. They are twins. How can one override the other?
“Those appear to be much more appropriate for the climate.”
“I’m going to try them on.”
“Don’t you wear those often?”
“Then why are you trying them on?”
“I need to see how they look with my tennis shoes.”
“I bet they look the same way that they did last Saturday when you wore them with your tennis shoes.”
She ignored me. She then pulled out multiple white t-shirts as possible matches for her black pants. I would have chosen the one on the top.
She then repeated the process with her jeans, a pair of crop yoga pants and a pair of leggings. When done, she put one pair back on with her sweatshirt and a rain jacket.
“AHHHH,” she grumbled.
“What’s wrong now?”
“This stupid coat does not match my tennis shoes.”
“Actually, blue and pink go well together.”
“No. They don’t. And look, when I zip it I look fat.”
“You have two t-shirts and a sweatshirt under it. Jimmy Walker would look plump in that getup.”
We then went to the attic to pick out a suitcase. The Vera Bradley bag in her closet would not work. She was afraid she was going to have to carry it too far.
“I want the one with the wheels. The one with the pink polka dots.”
“It will certainly match your rain coat. But I’m not sure about your tennis shoes.”
“Your suitcase does not have to match your tennis shoes. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh. I’m being ridiculous?”
“Yes. And weird. And don’t write about this!!” She brushed her hair back with her hand, “I’m tired of being famous.”
I don’t think she was serious. Well, about the last part.