Somehow I made it into the grade school spelling bee competition.
On the night of the big competition, my mom dressed me up in a stupid dress, matching tights, and told me to go put on my shoes.
I did what I was told, and came back down in my favorite, hand me down from one of my cousins, two sizes too big, black high top Chuck Taylor sneakers.
My mom looked at me disapprovingly. "Go change into your dress shoes!"
My dad looked at me and said "If that's what she wants to wear, then let her wear them."
I loved my dad.
So, off we went to the grade school for the big spelling bee.
There I was up on the stage with all of the other contestants. I made it to like the fourth round before being tossed out for some stupid long word (I have no idea which one) and frankly I was happy to be off the hot stage, standing up there while millions of parents looked at me (ok, maybe 40).
My dad thought I did very well. My mom said that she would have enjoyed it a bit more if I hadn't done this every time I spelled a word right:
Mom was always so critical.