Oh Mother!
I can vividly remember my mother storming into the Skate-A-Way roller rink in her bright red “toreador” pants when I was late walking out to the parking lot. We’d agreed that I’d be outside ready to go at 9pm, but I often lost track of time– maybe intentionally, maybe not.
She’d get frustrated waiting and finally come in to get me. I still think she purposely chose to wear her most outlandish clothes on those nights, those that would be the most embarrassing to a young teenager longing to be popular.
“Oh mother!” I would scowl.








