I hope my mother will weigh in on this, but seriously, can we discuss this picture? I found it when I was going through oldies recently.
This picture was taken at a 4-H meeting that was being held at our farm. The memory still fresh in my brain.
There were people present. People outside of our family. I was in public!
I was standing in front of the 4-H club, seething with jealousy that I wasn't old enough to be a member like my brother and sisters.
I knew I needed a way to be part of the night, to draw some of that focus back to me. I needed drama. What I needed was an attention-grabbing demonstration. I remember the topic I settled on had something to do with how to (ahem), remove a horse's head. (My eldest daughter might disown me if she caught wind of this.)
I remember that stainless steel bowl was full of grass, to serve as a distraction for the horse before head removal.
And of course, one needs a knife to handle this job. A butter knife, of course.
I remember gathering the supplies in the kitchen snickering under my breath at what a comedic genius I was. This was gonna be good!
But mom, can we discuss my outift? The tube top? With my white baby belly hanging out? Were you done fighting battles for the day? Did I sneak off and put it on without your knowledge? Was it so hot that night that you were concerned I might sweat through a normal-sized tshirt that covered more than my upper torso?
I was definitely getting attention. I'm thinking it was for the shirt, not the morbid demonstration.
Funny thing is, I find myself in the trenches of this battle, too. Maybe not tube tops, but I've been known to be seen in public with small children in striped skorts pulled up over jeans with polkda-dot tshirts and wool sweaters. Ballet tutus. Tall black rubber barn boots on the hottest dog days of summer. Children who look like they've been pulled from the pages of a Little House story versus the 21st century.
I can hear the "someday you'll understand" refrain in my head. And I smile at my 6 year-old self. And I give a knowing nod to my mother. Someday is here.