It’s a Bra Thing

School has been back in for almost two weeks now. Mel transferred to a different high school. One with way higher academic expectations than he is used to. He also tried out for the basketball team and made it. So his daily schedule has consisted of waking up at 6:30 so I can get him to his girlfriend’s house by 7:30 so he can ride to school with her. He goes to school all day until 3:30 and then he has basketball practice until 5:30. I pick him up, we drive home, have dinner, and then he gets his homework out and I make sure he does it right, then he showers and goes to bed by 10. It’s not necessarily in that particular order but it’s close. He’s already stressing about his grades, which is a pleasant thought for me because last year he couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck about his grades until the end of the year when he just wanted to make sure he passed.

Anyway, his school gives the kids laptops for the year. There was a meeting after school to listen to an hour long school talk and then get the computer. I went to the meeting. He wasn’t in the system so he is still waiting for his laptop, but nevertheless, I went…wearing whatever I had on earlier in the day. Nothing special. He didn’t say a word about it.

Tonight, he says, “mom, we have that parent meeting tomorrow so could you, like, not dress like a hippie?”

And I’m like, “I just wear whatever makes me happy. But why can’t I dress like a hippie?”

“Because, I don’t want them thinking that you’re gonna take all the money and go buy weed or something.”

So I’m thinking, ummmm…. pretty sure that’s not how things work but I’ll lay off the patchouli oil tomorrow and I say, “well what should I wear if you don’t want me to look ‘like a hippie’?”

He says, “I don’t know. Black.”

I’m pretty amused by this point because I didn’t know he had an issue with how I dress. Not that I care, but I don’t want to be a complete and utter embarrassment to the kid.  I continue to prod.

“Like, black yoga pants and a t shirt? You want me to dress like a yoga mom?”

He says, “Yeah, I want you do dress like a parent.”

And then the light bulb goes on, “OH, You want me to wear a bra tomorrow?”

I think I saw an eyeroll.

“No problem. I’ll wear those jeans (pointing to the right of me) and a shirt with a bra under it.”

Then he was content. “OK. I just don’t want you going in there with…” (And then he made a gesture that would allude to me having boobs that were big enough to flop everywhere and anywhere, which I do not). But I agreed and we said goodnight to one another and he went to bed.

I didn’t realize parents being an embarrassment was such a big deal in high school. Clearly, I haven’t been trying hard enough to mortify my children. But I guess for the sake of not traumatizing any of the basketball parents, I will “dress like a mom” tomorrow before I head out to the parent meeting… bra and all.