The Gremlin in My Closet

Last week was picture day at school. D came out in one of her cutest dresses with her hair braided. I didn't notice until later that she was wearing my red cardigan. I thanked her for not asking. "It's not a big deal mom." This week I was in my room when she visited my closet. "I need to wear your black cardigan." Did you hear a request for permission in that one? No, I didn't either. Last night she had a short choir performance. As I sat there listening to her beautiful voice (and scanning the rest of the choir to figure out which is the boy that she currently likes), I noticed she was wearing an outfit I didn't recognize. Is that a dress? Where did she get that? I don't remember seeing it before. Afterward, up close, I discovered that she was wearing yet another article of clothing that doesn't belong to her.

"Is that my black shirt?"
"Ha ha, yes."
"You can't keep taking things out of my closet without asking!"
"You weren't there and I didn't have time."
"What if I wanted to wear it?"
"Oh well. I didn't have time to get anything else."
"You have to ask first."
"Again, Mom. I didn't have time."

Like I'm the one that doesn't listen.

KY said I should be flattered that a 16-year-old is even interested in anything in my closet. Maybe, but I'm not. I'm annoyed. This morning I had an outfit in mind. When I went to get the sweater I needed to complete my casual Friday ensemble, it wasn't there. D was still in bed when grit my teeth at her. "You can't keep taking my clothes!" Her response? "Ha ha. That's too bad."

I'm not enjoying this phase. I may start bleaching her clothes one item at a time. That will teach her to both stay out of my closet and do her own laundry.

Gremlins are evil little creatures after all.