
Image courtesy of wikipedia.org
When I was in the third grade, I threw my first tantrum. Of course, this is the first one I recall, but my mother can probably remember plenty of others. I have a vivid recollection of this particular tantrum.
Growing up, my mother always dressed my sister and me in cute clothes. We wore Carter, Buster Brown and Garanimals. She had good taste and wanted us to look “presentable” when we left the house.
The morning of the tantrum, my mother chose the outfit she wanted me to wear to school. I was mortified. I put it on with the hopes that when she saw how ridiculous I looked, she would take pity on me and let me pick another outfit.
I don’t remember the shirt, but I do remember the plaid brown and black Knickerbocker pants and white “Go-Go” boots. I came down the stairs and she met me in the foyer. Her first words, “You look so cute in that outfit.”

Image courtesy of wikipedia.org – women wearing Knickerbockers
At that moment, I dropped to the floor, crying, kicking and screaming. This was the beginning of my tirade. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you trying to embarrass me? Everyone will laugh at me! I look so stupid! I’m not going to school!”
My mother was never one to put up with such an outburst. At 5’1″ and a petite frame, she was a force to be reckoned with. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. “Dry up.” I remember her saying. “You’re going to wear that outfit and I don’t want to hear another word.”
She drove me to school in silence. Typically, I rode the school bus, but it came and left as I threw my fit. During the ride, I realized I was going to be late. I would have to walk into the class while everyone was already at their desks. All eyes would be on me. I never like being the center of attention, especially when I was dressed like a freak.
My face was on fire when I entered the classroom. Everyone watched me as I took a seat at my desk. I was already dreading recess since that meant I would have to get out of my chair.
A funny thing happened as we filed out of class and onto the playground. My friend said, “I love that outfit.” Another girl, who I didn’t know that well said, “I wanted boots like that, but my mom wouldn’t buy them for me.” I smiled. Maybe my mom was right, maybe this was a cute outfit.
On this Mother’s Day, I’d like to say thank you Mom, for loving me in spite of my occasional tantrums. Thank you for always knowing what was best for me. I’m thankful to have a mother who is also my best friend.

My beautiful mother with my father.
Wishing everyone a Happy Mother’s Day weekend!
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