My eldest daughter starts high school tomorrow.
It brings to mind those words Martin Amis once wrote: “That went a bit quick. In certain moods, you may want to put it rather more forcefully. As in: OY!! THAT went a BIT FUCKING QUICK!!!…”
Mind you, she looks like she started high school four years ago – towering over me and clomping around with her size 10 feet.
She hassled me mercilessly to book a hair appointment before she started back at school. Not just a trim, shaved bits and a couple of streaks.
My dad forcefully expressed the opinion that it was madness and she’d get teased. But the eldest has never been particularly concerned by what other people think about her appearance, so I said yes to the shaved bits and streaks. I figured they’d both grow out.
And I drew the line at a cartilage piercing. I’m not a total push over.
She looks totally awesome with her new ‘do. I wish I’d been that adventurous at 12.
School shoes were another hot topic. She hates them and begged for some big, clompy boots for her big, clompy feet. But a perusal of the school rules revealed it prohibits such flagrant displays of individuality.
She looked so crushed when I told her that I decided on this fix: her feet pronate, so orthopaedic shoes are in order – aka Doc Martens.
We headed to the local Doc Marten stockist and I reeled when I saw the price tag: $219.
Far out! Her feet better not keep growing cause these babies need to last a looooong time.
While the shop assistant rummaged around in the back room for the eldest’s size I discovered the exact same pair of shoes on the other side of the store for $199.
When I asked the shop assistant WHY the original pair were $20 extra she informed me they were VEGAN.
Well I never!
Vegan shoes are apparently more expensive to produce than leather shoes. Fortunately we are not vegan, so I told the shop assistant to take the $219 pair back and bring me the cheaper dead cow ones.
The eldest loves them.
She’ll cut quite the figure in Docs and a no.6 cut on Day 1.
Why do they have to grow up so fast?
But please let her stay this divine.
Next hurdle: hormone explosion.
Hold on tight …