Dress Up Clothes

I hate papers lying around.  I hate it so much that my husband once asked if, by chance, I’d thrown away his law school diploma.  The diploma, after all, was a piece of paper, and therefore at risk, given my reputation as a paper chucker.  Of course, I hadn’t, but when it comes to letters sent home from my children’s schools, I’m so hasty about throwing them out I sometimes only give them a quick glance before they hit the trash.  And this has, at times, created a problem. 

Our daughter, Victoria, went to a grade school that prided itself on high achievement.  From the minute kindergartners entered its fabled hallways, there was just one question to be asked:  how much information can we cram in their little minds before summer break?   Yes, much was asked, but for those who rose to the challenge, much was rewarded, in the way of colored pencils, plastic medals, and certificates (more paper!) 

During the Christmas season (a super laid-back time of year) a letter came home with Victoria to let us know that the kindergarten awards assembly would be happening and that, rather than wearing the school uniform, Victoria, could, just for that day, wear dress-up clothes.  Right away I started wondering what costume I should dress my kindergartner in for assembly day.  Should she be a green M&M, or perhaps a kitty cat?  Decisions, decisions.

Sure, I had only glanced at the letter, but I knew what the teacher meant.  She wanted my daughter in dress-up clothes, which clearly meant a costume. Something like a gorilla or the bride of Frankenstein.  Had her teacher wanted Victoria in formal dress or Sunday dress, she would have said as much.  But she said dress-up, which made perfect sense, since even kindergartners who are pushed to the brink should be allowed to have a little fun.

In the end it came down to the green M&M or a Mexican senorita, and since the senorita was easier to buckle into the car seat, that’s what we went with.  She wore a dress we’d picked up on a trip to Tijuana, a flower in her hair, and I gave her strict instructions that when her name was called for an award that she should stand up and shout, Arriva!  We were good to go, ready for a fun-filled kindergarten award assembly, until we got there and I noticed there were no gorillas, no power rangers or princesses, just a room full of kids wearing SUNDAY clothes! 

The upside is on assembly day you want your kid to stand out, and she did.  Maybe not as much as she would have had we gone with the M&M costume, but she definitely stood out.  And what’s more, her five-year-old self felt perfectly at ease looking like a little girl in search of a mariachi band.  She rolled with it, and though an ambitious high school student today, her laid back personality still shines through, because as her phone message begins by saying, Hey, this is Victoria.