Dear Mrsatroxi,

As I was growing up, I was not allowed to wear t-shirts with anything on them.

Let me clarify that. I don’t mean stains, food, or mud. Those were perfectly ok. (And I always had plenty of all of those. But that’s another story. For another time.) No, I mean pictures, or words. Someone once handed down a shirt to me that had a horse on it as well as a sentence that said “Dare to Dream” or some other nonsense like that. I could wear it, but only around the house, or to bed. But not out. Definitely not out. Flowers, now, flowers were ok. But nothing else. I don’t know why. I didn’t know then, and I don’t know now. I don’t know if perhaps my Mother thought them vulgar, or if she was frightened by a slogan as a small child. Either way, no shirt for me.

Until now.

Now, as I grow older, I am acting out on that oppression. Every single damn t-shirt I buy has something on it. I have Muppets t-shirts, Mutts t-shirts, Eeyore t-shirts, Sesame Street t-shirts, a Dalek t-shirt, a Jayhawks t-shirt, and one of my most favorites, a Mr. Rogers t-shirt.

Just call it my teenage rebellion ten years too late.

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