Vanity, Thy Name Ain't Mom

Yes, it was one of "those" days. I didn't get into the shower for hours. When I finally did, and got dressed, I promptly dumped coffee all over my clothes. Not having the time or energy to change clothes before I rushed off to my daughter's ice skating class, I blotted it off.

Hee-hee, I chortled to myself, I have to wear a jacket in the rink anyway, no one will know.

Except I forgot how much two year olds, without an external source of entertainment, really enjoy playing with zippers. Oh, and he got me on the up-zip. Read: large red welt on my neck.

I looked down during the class and there is a blob (not the dark coffee stain) of something on my jeans. I went to two, count them two, stores after ice skating class. Later, I changed into shorts that are much too big. I should be thankful, but big isn't always flattering. Sometimes it just says I'm too much of a slob to buy clothes that fit.

And then the pinnacle of my day. Not quite. I haven't mentioned that my hair air-dried and hasn't been combed since. Nor that I didn't get much on in the way of makeup. But no, I'm not done. When I began supper, not just for my family, but for another one as well (and they knew it was coming and at a certain time) I discovered my potatoes were rotten. When I should have been peeling potatoes I was strapping on my children's shoes and mine and boogying all of us to the van to get to the store. I slide into one black flip flop and look for the other. The only other flip flop in the room is navy. I was late and couldn't find another, in the room or in my closet. I wore the mis-matched shoes to the store. And to take my friends dinner. And around the house later.

But the insistent question in my mind is not why I did that tonight. Oh, no. It is for how many days have I been doing this without knowing? And where is the other mis-matched pair?