“Please tell me you at least showered already,” I said.
“I did. I just need to figure out what to wear. I think all my good jeans are dirty.”
“Put on a skirt.”
“Why?”
“So you’ll look nice.”
“I can look nice in jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Carmen, come on. Even I’m wearing a button-down shirt and khakis. I resisted the urge to put on a T-shirt and a pair of cargo pants.”
“You just want to look good for Paul.”
Yes, seeing Paul again had made me put a little more effort into my appearance that morning. If I was just having brunch with my mother and/or Carmen, I certainly wouldn’t have worn anything that required ironing.
In spite of her complaining, Carmen did put on a skirt (a denim skirt, but a skirt nonetheless) and a blouse that I picked out for her. She looked cute. I didn’t think it was wrong of me to want her to look nice when she met Paul. If he was going to meet the family, he might as well meet them when they were looking their best.
* * * *