Yesterday Corrie and I went to our local SuperCenter, and we started out in the little girls’ clothing section. I was thrilled to notice a new line of t-shirts they’re marketing as "longer length" (read: cover up your daughter’s midriff because she’s SEVEN, for Pete’s sake). About time, I thought with a smug head nod.
My satisfaction didn’t last for long–I quickly found a t-shirt (in a size 4T, no less) with a giant "WHATEVER!" printed on it. I grumbled to myself through the rest of the store. What kind of world is it in which four year olds walk around with sentiments like this on their chest? What hope is there for America? Could our moral decline be any steeper? How shall I protect my daughter from such a world?
I was so wrapped up in my righteous thoughts that I didn’t even realize that I was, to soothe my daughter’s fussiness, leaning forward and singing into her ear along with the song playing over the PA system: Papa Don’t Preach.
Yep. Mom Of The Year, right here.