She ain’t smelly, she’s my Mother

I spent the better of half of my time this morning, before I left for work (15 minutes late!), throwing out food choices to my children.

“Andie, do you want one or two hotdogs on Hotdog Day?”

“Adam, white milk or chocolate?”
 
His reply, “is it pizza day or hot dog day? If it’s pizza day I don’t want white milk.”

“Why?”

“Cause there’s cheese on pizza. With white milk it would be too much dairy.”

“But chocolate milk with pizza is okay?”

“Yep.”

“Mmm-kay.”

I got up this morning, drove Richard to the train station, came home and leisurely ate my breakfast and read the paper.  All hell broke loose when I realized I had to microwave hotdogs for the kids’ lunches, I hadn’t filled out the forms or written the cheques for hot lunches and I hadn’t pledged my kids for the Terry Fox Run at school today.

(Dammit!)

So, I forgoed my shower (it’s okay, I already had one this month), threw on yesterday’s pants and, after filling out the forms (numbers six-billion and seven and six-billion and eighth consecutively in the tally of forms I have filled out this month that I hate), I headed out into morning rush hour sans makeup.

It was about 11:00 this morning, while in the bathroom, that I looked in the mirror and thought, “I can’t remember brushing my hair this morning either. Meh, it’s passable.”

Good thing I have no one to impress…and that I had better hygiene 18 years ago when I was looking to impress a certain someone!

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One response to this post.

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    Reply

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