My baby is flying away. Literally. On Friday she is getting on a plane and flying to California to see her father and his family. She is excited to go and I'm will be sorry to see her leave. She is my baby and I have gotten so very used to having all of her idiosyncrasies around I will be lost without her.
By Friday she will have left the swamp that is under a heat advisory as we speak and will be settling into life in Northern California. She will be somewhere outside San Francisco where I am told it is cold. In the fifties. In South Texas that's winter. In South Texas, fifties equals freezing. My baby will have to wear warm clothes, but winter was a million years ago and my baby has out grown most of her long pants and long sleeve shirts.
"Buy her some new jeans and long sleeve shirts before she comes," advised her father helpfully. Except my baby doesn't wear jeans if she get help it. Why doesn't she wear jeans? For the same reason she doesn't eat peanut butter or hot dogs or hamburgers or pasta with sauce, she's weird. I'm not sure what traumatic jeans event occurred in her young childhood, but it scared her for life and my baby does not change her mind about thing easily. She is stubborn beyond all sense.
However, now that middle school has arrived I was planing on easing her into jeans anyway. You cannot live in America and never wear jeans. Its illegal. (I think.) Tonight I am taking this opportunity to buy two pairs of jeans that my daughter will be forced to wear while in San Fran. So that's a good thing.
On the shirts well, my daughter owns jackets and if things get drastic her father can buy her warmer clothes. I'm saving money for back to school clothes. Clothes she can wear back home in the swamp. Since our winter will make its way to us sometime around January, long sleeves just aren't on my list.