I grew up in a house where my mother did not trust my sisters and me to manage our own appearance. As a result, there were _______ , and fashion was largely ignored（忽视）.

However, two years ago, I was home for a visit when my mom, in her early 70s, called me into her bedroom. “I don’t know what to wear,” she _______   “You girls always look so good.”

I looked at her, wondering if I'd misunderstood. “What do you mean?” I asked her, “You know what to wear.”

“No, I don’t.” She answered. “Can you pick something for me?” She repeated the question again. I was so _______ and couldn’t believe my ears.

This was the same woman who had told my younger sister she wasn’t allowed to wear a pair of ripped（有破洞的）jeans; the same woman who, in high school, called me while I was out at a party to ask if my hair was up. “Don’t do that, because you look _______ with your hair down.” she told me, before I could _______.

Suddenly, I realized that my mother—always so strong—not only wanted my opinion _______ needed it.

I pulled a pair of blue jeans from the closet. “This _______ your black shoes perfectly,” I told her. She did. My mother certainly doesn’t need anyone to take care of her. In fact, she still looks after my grandmother who lives with her. But with that _______, my mother and I started the role exchange reversal（转变）that happens with all parents and all children, from caregiver to receiver.

Now, if I’m visiting or we’re together, it’s _______ for her to wear anything without asking me for advice first. I’m still always a bit surprised by the admission（承认）of her uncertainty. But every so often, it seems like she asks me just to be able to disagree with my answer and pick out something on her own instead. And ________ she does, I just tell her what I think of the way she looks. Sometimes it’s “great”. And sometimes it’s “awful”.