A Confirmed "Dork"

Really?  

Is it confirmed?  

I am really a dork?  

The confirmation of this reality in my kids' eyes was...well...

confirming.  

To "dork-dom"  I be "doomed".

I'm telling you.  

This is the life with teens watching your every faux pas.  

And my teens are of the polite variety.  

It was the constant shifting downward of the eyes to my feet.  

It was the slight exchanging of shared acknowledgment concerning my stylistic impairments.  

It was the 

"feet cold, Mom?" 

question filled with barely detectable snickers of amusement.

Really?

Is there no where I can hide?

My feet were COLD.