So there were alot of hairy upper lips in Wrigleyville last Saturday.
It was a fundraiser for Chicago Children’s Memorial Hospital. The annual “Mustache Crawl”.
And I went with my friends and my daughter.
I had drinks with my daughter. I had alot of laughs with my daughter. I was loud with my daughter. I danced with my daughter.
Is this wrong?
It seems that there are people out there who actually don’t understand this concept of enjoying your life with your offspring.
It seems that I am to play with her when she is little but when it comes time for socializing in the world (okay… getting drunk in a bar) I shouldn’t have her around.
This concept is so foreign to us. I am happy that I can spend time with someone I raised in this world. So we occasionally drink vodka and pineapple juice together. And laugh about all the times I grounded her. They all seem so funny to us now. To be honest I wish my mom would have liked to hang out with me more. And get to know me as ME, not just as her daughter.
This is what I have tried to do with my child. She knows when she needs me.. I will be MOM. But sometimes I think she likes that I am also her friend .
The teenage years were the years that I didn’t consider us “freindly”. I was always yelling at her to get to school on time, clean her room, not call in sick to work, get good grades, drive safely, not to drink or do drugs and even not to go to tanning booths. Yes, she even got grounded for having someone forge my name on the tanning booth consent form. I was only trying to protect her skin. Now she gets it.
But now she is 21 and has just graduated from college. She has a job. She even pays the direct tv bill on time every month.
We don’t hang out every weekend or anything bizarre like that. And I still lecture her occasionally about something I think she needs to focus on.
I am glad I invited her to this mustache event. It was fun to see her sporting a tiny red mustache, eating sausage and climbing up the giant macaroni noodle. I could have done without the 4 drinks spilled all over the bars. Especially the bloody mary on the girl wearing white pants. That almost turned into a bar brawl. Afterall, I have to stick up for my daughter when someone calls hers a ….. well let’s just say it was like the playground all over again. That’s when she looked to me for her MOMMY. And I was right there for her.
I don’t have any other summertime bar plans with her. I hope we can catch a movie together at least. But she has a boyfriend and a job. I pretty much come somewhere down the line after those. So I cherish our moments together, even if they involve bar room antics. I will take what I can get. Plus people, it’s kind of brilliant that I can keep a close eye on her when she is out in Chicago getting jiggy, trying to do who knows what with who knows who. Right under the watchful eye of “MOM’.
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