Before I left the house this morning,
I already had a banana glop
stuck to the side of my sweater
from the Babylove's hand
and a drizzle of coffee
from the drooling, half-asleep mama.
I could have changed my sweater,
but I didn't.
Instead, I readied my
"Oh, my goodness!" face.
If confronted with a helpful soul's
insights into the palatte--
that was my sweater--
a look of surprise
would cross my brow
followed by a self-deprecating chuckle.
In truth, I already knew.
4 comments:
ah...i can relate to this even without the baby...
you are so lucky to have a baby to blame things on. i just pretend i can't see the spot when someone points it out. "what? where? i don't see it.. where is it?" and then people give up. no one should point out your stains anyway, unless they have a tide pen to help you.
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