Emo

Araceli is in an experimental phase.  At 13, she has gotten taller and leaner and suddenly realized that she is a beautiful girl with a quirky sense of style and an overflowing personality.  Each day of seventh grade brings new attention from new friends.  When she flings herself into the car after school, I'm always eager to find out what exciting thing has happened.  One day it's, "This kid I don't even know came up to me and said, 'How's Leo?'  How did he even know my cello is named Leo!?!?"  The next day it's, "I HAVE to go see the school play!  ALLL my friends are in it!"  Or, "That girl in orchestra who hates me?  She LIKES me now!  I have no idea why!  She just came up and started talking to me!!"

So yesterday, Araceli leaped into the car and declared, "Emo boys are SO CUTE!  I HAVE to get a nose ring!  Can I?!"

My response was, "Emo boys?  They're so thin and pale!  Who are these emo boys?  Are they really smart, or are they just posers?  And I like nose rings."

Araceli fairly leaped out of her seat.  "You LIKE nose rings?!  So I can get one?!  Yesssss!"

I said, "Ya, probably not until like 9th grade because you're only in 7th grade, and you don't want to be that weird girl whose parents let her get a nose ring in 7th grade."

"Mom!  EVERYONE at my school is getting gages.  I would NOT be weird!"

"Ewww!  Sick!  And also, you might change your mind and then you'll have a big hole in your nose."

"I'll NEVER change my mind!  I promise!  I will ALWAYS want a nose ring!"

By this time, we were in line at Dylan's to get a before-ballet snack.  I pulled out my phone and said, "Let me get that on camera, that you're thirteen years old and you're confident that you will ALWAYS want a nose ring."  Dramatically, Araceli poured out her soul on the subject of nose rings and how passionately she has to have one.

Fast forward four hours.  I get home and find Araceli looking in the mirror in her room.  She looks at me mournfully with her kohl-lined eyes, black lips in a practiced pout.  I burst into laughter.  "Araceli, you canNOT pull off that look.  You're too beautiful and you're too happy."  She pursued it, though, flouncing into the kitchen to accost Ruby with her angry stare.  Ruby blared out, "WHAT is on your lips?!"

Emo Girl sullenly retorted, "What ISN'T on my lips?"  Indeed, there were many layers of black eyeliner and probably some crayon and marker on her lips.  The rest of us humored Araceli's foray into the goth, even abiding Tziporah's similarly trampy look, with Araceli-inflicted eyeliner and black lips.  Truthfully, Tziporah has the attitude to match her brooding makeup and messy hair hanging in her face.  She carried it off much better than Araceli, who truly had to work to stay sullen.

This morning, Araceli hopped in the car with a beautiful new make-up look.  Less is more, I'm told, and in this case, it was true.  I told her I was glad she decided not to go goth.  She smirked.

"I still like nose rings, though."

"Me too."