U

. . . is for Uniform.

Gone are the days of hand-made princess costumes for Halloween. Costuming the pre-teen girl brings a whole new level of angst for which I was ill-prepared. Seeing as I would not allow her to go to the 6th grade Halloween party at a classmate's home dressed as a bum (no creativity whatsoever) she was left to her own devices. When I failed her, she turned to Dad. He called from Target on Thursday night while they were shopping for "the costume" (the party was Friday night!) and asked if he could just leave her there. U is also for unflappable - her, not him. I had told her: "No ideas - no trips to Target!" He had not made such an announcement.

With an idea in her head, she dragged him through the aisles until he figured out what the plan was: white shirt, athletic pants, black tape, whistle. And then dad took ever. Measuring each and every line, cutting each piece of tape, placing them just so. So that every stripe was . . .

. . . U is for Uniform.