Yesterday, I sat down with the girls and sorted through all of my jewelry. The junk. The good stuff. The really good stuff. The really really good stuff.
I gave them a great deal of jewelry, but none of the really good stuff. They can have some of that after they prove to me that they are responsible with the good stuff.
Lately, I've been on a quest to get Maryanne to take off her earrings before showering. Mind you, these are not the little studs you get at first. They are pearl earrings! But she's sixteen and I'm her mother so I'm stupid. Well, obviously she's not going to get the really good stuff until she's proven that she's going to take good care of what I've already parted with.
They don't get the really really good stuff until I'm dead. Like Charlton Heston. They can have my pearl necklace when they can pry it from my cold dead neck.
We also made a pile to sell to Tiffany. Mostly, the stuff to be sold is from my former mother-in-law. Ah, the guilt!!