"God, Mom! You Make Every Morning Suck!"

You know, usually a statement like this (uttered by my 13-year old this morning) would send me over the edge or into the liquor cabinet. However, today, in the aftermath of the greatest natural disaster to ever hit the United States, Katrina, I'm actually feeling rather fortunate. My house is dry. I have a roof. We have food. Everyone is healthy. And although gas is expensive, I'll still be able to fill up, although probably less often.

See, this statement was made as a result of a half-discussion about the rolling of the waistband of the uniform skirt. If you have teenage girls in parochial schools, you know this is a huge issue. For some reason, the skirt is never short enough to satisfy the child. As a result, it's always too short for the mom. I could put my foot down and demand that it be unrolled, but as a grizzled veteran of parenting, I know that it will be rolled again once she's in the doors of the school. Yes, folks. I'm pickin' my battles.

Here's what I hope happens: I'm hoping that she gets busted by the uniform police the minute that she gets in her class. Perhaps it will result in a detention. I will not say anything and just hope that she feels that the consequences are not worth the action. But, it's unlikely that she'll get busted. Because although she's a skirt roller, she's not a trouble-maker.

Here's what will happen: Once again, we will have a long talk about respect. We have this talk about once a month. Sometimes it sinks in, but often a refresher course is needed. In any case, my point will be made, albeit a bit delayed.

As the song says: "Nice work if you can get it." And I say: "I've got it bad, baby. I've got it bad."