“What about your teeth?” I continue to fret. “Did you remember to brush your teeth?”
5 kids=10 gloves (matching preferably)=50 fingers I’m required to keep warm.
And that doesn’t even include my own.
- I don’t have on a coat. I couldn’t find mine in the rush to get out the door. Instead I’m wearing a jacket that barely keeps me warm in the Spring.
- I don’t have gloves either because they’re in the coat pockets.
- I’m not wearing a hat and let’s face it, there’s no way I’m ever wearing a hat. But sadly, this is not because I have brushed my hair. I haven’t even though I’ve been awake for three hours. Or my teeth, I realize. I haven’t done that either yet. Gross. Plus, I haven’t put my contacts in which means I’m wearing my old glasses that literally have been super-glued together at the nose.
But it gets worse.
- Under my Spring jacket, I’m wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Shorts! And not even regular, respectable shorts. No. I’m wearing gray sweat shorts. And I haven’t shaved my legs in a few days. TMI, I know. But it’s true.
- And shoes? I grabbed the closest pair to the door which means I’m sporting my teen daughter’s bright blue, fuzzy, BYU flip-flops. And as if that isn’t hideous enough, I’m wearing socks with them, because let’s face it folks, it’s cold out there! I’d hate to freeze.
- And to top it all off, care to guess what I’ve had for breakfast? A half-eaten, broken cookie. That’s it.
“Do as I say, not as I do.”
Anyone else have these issues or is it just me? Please tell me it’s not just me.
|In case you didn’t believe me|
PS, if my neighbor Kim is reading this, I apologize if you happened to glance out your window around 9:00 this morning. Troy forgot to get all the garbage cans out and as consequence, I was still wearing this hideous little get-up when I took the rest of them out. In my defense, we still have leftover Christmas wrapping and boxes and it wasn’t worth risking a shower first and missing the garbage man. So I’m really, really, really sorry. I’m also really hoping/praying nobody else saw me. Kim’s nice enough to laugh instead of call the cops. Or worse…my mom.