Mom on the Run: A sudden appreciation for gray

It takes me a minute to identify the bulging white shopping bag on the floor: it's the loot from my daughter's back-to-school shopping.

I sent my 16-year-old out by herself today, armed with sale flyers, coupons, and -- gasp! -- the MasterCard. It was a brave experiment, a completely solo shopping trip, and now, here in my hand, is what she bought.

For a minute I am irritated that she didn't carry the bag upstairs and put her new clothes away, but then I figure she left it here for me to see. Or at least that's my rationalization as I prepare to assess her choices.

Optimistically, I start pulling out clothes, and the first item doesn't disappoint. Oh, this is cute, I think. It's a white T-shirt, a nice shape with cap sleeves and a design on the front. So far, so good, which continues with the next item: a similar T-shirt in steel gray.

"Gray. Interesting," I think. That's different, and I nod in approval.

Next up is a mustard-yellow T-shirt, very like the white and gray, and now I'm disappointed. She bought so much of the same thing! And my daughter already has plenty of short-sleeved Tees .… My mouth begins to tighten as I dig deeper.

The next item cheers me up a little. It's another short-sleeved shirt, but different, less casual, with a deep, rounded neckline and a flowing shape. Pretty, and it's gray too, which, again, is a nice change from her current wardrobe. But then I pull out -- another gray shirt? This is a completely different style, sure, but this is a lot of gray, a LOT of gray, and my mouth goes straight again. The next shirt in the bag is brown, but it's yet another short-sleeved top, and now I am definitely not happy.

My frown lifts, though, when I find a deep teal wool-blend cardigan in the bag. It's got a flared bottom, tiny buttons at the waist, and I love it! The sweater is pretty, warm, and can be casual or dressy.

Then there's a printed tank top, which is OK, and I'm glad to finally find a pair of jeans in the bag. She really needs jeans, and these -- I check the tag -- are a good price. And that's it.

Carefully I fold everything and pack it back up, arranging it as it was before so it's not obvi-ous I peeked, and I consider the total haul.

I'm pleased with the sweater and the jeans, I'm OK with the two gray tops … but three? And four more short-sleeved shirts? I'm unhappy, frowning … until it hits me: So what? I don't care! My daughter chose these clothes, she'll be wearing them, she knows what she wants.

And the sun beams and angels sing as I realize I paid, but I didn't GO, didn't wander through store after store, didn't endure her rolling her eyes at every piece of clothing I sug-gested, didn't argue over the number of T-shirts or all the gray, didn't try to be sym-pathetic as my tall, thin daughter complained about not finding clothes in her size.

I grin. Suddenly I love gray T-shirts.

Lianne Wilkens lives with her family in Manassas. She can be reached at liannewilkens@hotmail.com.