Out of the blue this week, my almost 14-year-old (TOMORROW!) announced, “Want to know what word I hate?” Of course, as someone who despises all sorts of words but none as much as moist or mauve, I was genuinely dying for this information.

“Ooh, tell!” I begged.

“Skort,” she enunciated, somehow making those five letters sound like they were only four. 

“Really?” I asked, sincerely. “What’s wrong with skort?” 

“OH MY GOD MOM STOP SAYING IT,” she shouted, covering her ears. (We have absolutely no idea where she gets the dramatic streak.)

“I just don’t get what’s so awful about sk–”

“LALALALALALALALA,” she interrupted, ears still covered, eyes closed now, too.

“Wow, you really don’t like the word sk–”

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!” she wailed.

“I was kidding that time,” I promised, amused. I mean, it’s not like it was as bad as chunky, yeast or discharge.

But our conversation reminded me of something!

This is not technically a skort (Sorry, Sophie) because it’s a skirt in the front and the back; the shorts part is hidden underneath (so clever!) but I think we can all agree it’s close enough. This was a hand-me-down from my sister, which I borrowed once while visiting her because we were going for a walk and it was a thousand degrees out and the only time I wear shorts is never.

“I don’t wear it, you should take it home with you,” she offered.

“I’ll never wear it either,” I insisted.

“It’s so soft, you might change your mind,” she pushed.

“I’m good,” I told her.

“But you give me stuff all the time,” she pouted, clearly wanting the damned thing out of her closet at any cost. 

“Fine,” I said because I’m a nice person, and before I could change my mind she stuffed THE EXACT SAME SK*RT IN WHITE AND GREY INTO MY BAG, I swear it, because we’re sisters and crazy runs in families.

Here’s the part I cannot explain: That was at least four years ago, and I STILL HAVE ALL THREE OF THEM, despite the fact that I have never once worn any of them on this coast.

Laurie, I see what you did there. And they’re coming back at you in your next care package (but I promise not to scrub the toilet with any of them first).

XO
Jenna