A Mother's Dream?
Each year you get school pictures for everyone to see.
I always plead my case for you to just dress properly.
I make you wear your hair down or maybe with some curls
but then the pictures get here and I say ''Who are these girls? ''
Why do I make them do this, clean up and look their best?
Why can't I say ''Just go as you are.'' and let them get their rest?
If a picture speaks a thousand words, your pictures surely scream.
You're sitting there pretending to be your mother's dream.
I'll learn to just ignore it, the t-shirts and the jeans.
I'll learn to keep a handle on what your picture really means.
I'd rather be reminded of the way you really are.
Like how you yank your ponytail out as you reach my car.
You have your taste in clothes now, although I don't agree
I love the smile that's on your face each time you look at me.
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