She sat opposite her daughter, hands tightly clasped in her lap, “You don’t know everything,” she said, sitting forward so she was eye level with her daughter. “Being an adult, isn’t as easy as doing whatever the hell you want, goofing off, taking advantage of people and shirking your responsibilities.”
“I know mom, yet you still lecture me,” her daughter Brooke said, crossing her legs and leaning back against the chair. “I’ve got this under control, you gotta trust me.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, you’ve taught me well.” Brooke started to stand. “So, guess if this talk is over...”
“No! No Brooke, this conversation is not over.”
She sighed, Somethings got to change. What can I say this time, that will get her attention? She pulled her arms into her sweater, unclasped her bra, pulled the ends through her sweater and held her bra in one hand.
“Really!” she shrieked, falling back into the chair.
The piece of clothing hit Brooke, “Since you’ve got it all figured out smart ass, try wearing my bra a while.”
Brooke looked at her mother’s bra in her lap; repulsed.
“Think of it like this, if you can wear my bra, you’ll have proven you are ready for adulthood.”
Brooke gingerly grabbed the satin piece of clothing and quickly threw the bra down on the table, looking at her mom with a sour face. “I don’t see what wearing your bra has to do with any of this!”
“OK, explain,” she said. “Please, I can’t wait to hear this.”
With a sigh, she plastered on a poker face, “Put it on. I’ll wait.”
“Mom, seriously! You're overreacting, like always.”
“I’ve had years and experience to grow into it, I’ve earned my cups.”
“Great, so you’re telling me that eventually I’ll fit in your bra? Nice,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“No, I’m trying to show you that being an adult, an adult woman especially, is more than being selfish, a know it all, rash and impulsive,” saying as she grabbed her daughter’s hands. “It’s about being responsible, taking care of your priorities, willing to learn… because we learn something new.”
“Every day,” Brooke finished for her mom. “Yeah, I know, you are constantly saying that.” Sighing she whispered, “I do listen more than it might look like.”
“You may hear me, but are you really listening, because it doesn’t seem that way from my side of things,” she sat back in the chair and crossed her legs slowly, giving her daughter time to digest what she’d just said.
Brooke closed her eyes and shook her head, “I’m not a child and I’m not stupid. I just wish you’d give me a chance to prove it.”
She looked up, purposefully diverting her eyes.
“Who are you trying to prove to that you’re an adult Brooke?” raising her voice an octave higher as she shook her hand. “If you really aren’t a child, you don’t have to go around trying to not prove it, you’re confident enough that you just know.”
Brooke stood like she’d been set on fire and began pacing. She really just doesn’t get it. She needed to scream, or cuss or hit something.
Pointing her finger at her daughter and shaking it she said,
“Part of being an adult is having the sense to acknowledge that there’s always something to learn, always a lesson in every moment, and owning that.” Pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes firmly shut, she inhaled slowly. “If everyone walked around all the time acting like they knew it all, there’d be no reason to have school, to learn a new skill or do anything. Take my bra for example.”
“Ugh mom, really? Back to the bra thing?”
“Yes, now sit down, you’re giving me a headache!” She ordered.
Brooke did as she was told and eased herself into her seat. Biting her lip she pondered her next words, but before she could say anything, her mother continued.
“You’re still transitioning from being a teenager to an adult. That takes time. You aren’t just a teenager one moment and BAM,” she slapped her hands together for emphasis. “You're suddenly an adult.”
“I get it, but you’ve gotta give me a chance to do that first.”
Shaking her head in agreement, “That is exactly what I’m trying to do, but you have your head so far stuck up your ass, you won’t even listen to guidance. If you want to do it on your own, fine, but I wouldn’t be much of a mother if I didn’t at least give you the tools to be successful in everything you do in life.”
“Mom, I appreciate you being here for me, I do… but I still fail to see the relevance of what your little bra throwing has to do with any of this.”
“Thank you, you just proved my point. If you can’t understand my actions, then you haven’t yet learned anything from this little talk of ours either.” Sitting forward she eyed her daughter, gauging her reaction closely. It was important her daughter get this lesson, but not for the reasons Brooke might be thinking.
“Fine, then maybe I should take of my bra and throw it at you. Maybe we should swap bras,” she air quoted. “In order to understand each other better.”
She smiled and said, “OK, but I’m warning you, you won’t be able to wear your bra when you get it back.”