First Impressions and Why Shoes Are Important

Today I wore a tank top.  Why is that important?  I'll get to that.  But first, picture the tank top.  It's old.  It's white.  It's got some stains...that are covered strategically by my super cute fitted blazer that I wear over it.  Problem solved. 

Kind of.

Remember that description.

Today I dropped off The Third Grader at his art class after school.  He hopped out of the van on the street and ran in the door.  No need for me to go inside.  Awesome.  Now I can go home and start dinner.

I felt so accomplished!  In 45 minutes I made peas, mashed potatoes and Asian slaw.  The ham was already in the slow cooker.  I set the table and filled water glasses.  We could eat as soon as we got home.  Whew! 

Alright kids, it's 5:10, let's get to the car!  Baby Girl pops into the kitchen wearing a bright poncho I crocheted years ago that I had tried to get her to wear in the Fall.  It's a rainbow of colors.  She's wearing Minnie Mouse socks and has three dolls with ratty hair bundled in her arms. 

Baby Girl:  Can I bring Snow Girl, Dora and Hurley Shirley?

Me:  Sure that's fine.  Wait for me on the front porch.

Baby Girl:  Do I need to wear shoes?

Me:  No.  That's fine.  Just go!  We are late!

Middle Child:  Hey, do I need shoes? 

Me:  NO!

We hop in the car.  As I pull into the art studio's parking lot I realize...

I have to go inside. 

We have to go inside.

I forgot my blazer.  I am wearing a stained tank top that is more appropriate for car wash duty and my two kids are not wearing shoes.  Fantastic.

I spot my running jacket.  It is bright pink...all the better to be seen while running, of course.  It is blinding pink and looks better with running shorts and running shoes.  It looks a little stupid with my jeans. 

Then I see a giant green flip flop for Middle Child.  I think...well, one shoe is better than none right?  Fortunately, I find another.  Unfortunately, it's three sizes smaller.  Oh well.  Beggars can't be choosers. 

I can carry Baby Girl. Shoes aren't important.

It gets better. 

This is the last day of art class.  The Third Grader has made a friend and desperately needs me to meet his mom so we can arrange play dates.  Awesome. 

We meet.  She is holding a cute little girl in a teal blue tutu and matching silky top.  Her hair is in a beautiful bow. 

I am holding a dirty faced (cute) little girl wearing a bright yellow, teal and pink poncho better suited for Ugly Betty and black bottomed Minnie Mouse socks.  Zooming around me like a deranged bumble bee is Middle Child.

flip, FLOP, flip, FLOP, flip, FLOP

Because one shoe is three sizes bigger than the other. Remember?

We exchange numbers.  As we are leaving I see her toss mine in the trash. 

I'm kidding.  She didn't really do that. 

Hopefully, we made new friends and we'll look back on this day and laugh.  I'm thinking that may not be any day soon though.  Right now Middle Child is wearing a life jacket, top hat and spiderman bike gloves.  He's carrying a toy carving knife. 

I've got some work to do.