What's done is done

Annie decided last week, at age 16, to get her ears pierced. This was a bit of a surprise, as she'd never expressed much interest in said activity to date. But one of her BFFs (that would be Best Friends Forever, for those not conversant in teen speak) was recently asking for a belly button piercing. Annie asked for one, too.

Um. No.

Then she called while out on one of her many outings and said that she and another one of her BFFs were getting their ears pierced.

No um necessary. Yes. Sure. Why not?

And so she did. There was some discussion about her using an old pair of my earrings for said event. I never got around to telling her that I didn't think she could do that. Being very, very old, I remember having my ears pierced with earring posts that were pointy and sharpy and ouchy--the better to punch the hole, my dear. So I figured that she couldn't use any of my earrings, which do not possess pointy-ness. But I forgot to tell her that in the rush of her coming and going.

There's a lot of those comings and goings with teenagers. Have you noticed that? Makes my head spin sometimes. I honestly forget sometimes whether she's here or gone!

Off she went, and back here she came, with pierced ears courtesy of the earring gun. Looked cute. She was happy. I was happy.

Several days passed. I noticed that my diamond stud earrings were missing. I'm sure you know where this is going, even though I surely didn't at the time. I searched high and low for them, even taking apart the vacuum and attempting to mine the dirt inside for gems. No luck. Asked the kids if they remembered seeing them anywhere. No such luck.

I figured my earrings were gone. I'd probably left them on the dresser and they'd gotten swept off. Or I took them off while traveling and didn't remember to put them back on the next morning in some hotel room. I was sad. These were much coveted earrings, a present from my dear husband. But what's done is done.

I stopped searching and sat down to finish my work. Annie appeared. She smiled. She pointed to her earrings. Her shiny sparkly earrings? MY diamond earrings! She had borrowed them, thinking they were the earrings SHE had bought for me long ago. The very inexpensive, though sweet, fake not even zirconium diamond set. I smiled. I did a happy dance. We decided she would keep them in until she's allowed to remove them. Laughter ensued. What's done is done.

Not the end of the story, though. Annie worked down at Taste yesterday--paid employment, yea! Afterwards, she and a buddy met up with some friends for a beach frolic. Do you know where this is going yet? Fast forward a few hours to Annie standing in front of the mirror, ready to admire my earrings against her newly acquired tan. My earring. There's only one earring in one earring. The other is gone. Gone.

I found another pair for her. She bravely repierced the ear from which the earring went missing. She said, "I'm sorry, Mommy." What's done is done. How could I be angry with her? She didn't do anything wrong. Mistakes happen. Accidents happen. And spending time and emotion fussing over what is done isn't worth it anymore.

Now I have a daughter with adorable pierced ears. And a single diamond to remind me of, what? Whatever lesson I'd like to have learned from this. What's done is done. And whether that's due to a mistake or a bad decision or evil or something wrong or a simple accident, well, the why of it might not be all that important. We move on.

Liz