After waking yesterday morning, lounging around in our PJs and doing absolutely nothing to clean up the disgusting pit our house had become over just two short days, I suddenly realized we had a birthday party to go to in two hours. And no present.
If it had been a girl’s party, I could’ve dug something out of THE BOX in the back of my closet. A tradition picked up from my mom, THE BOX contains an assortment of little things picked up here and there, put away for sick days, sad days, and just such occasions as this. THE BOX includes re-gifters too, but somehow, I didn’t think a boy turning five would appreciate that Cabbage Patch doll with the overpowering scent of baby powder that proved too much for MP’s asthma. (Uch, too much for Mommypie, even. Note to Cabbage Patch Company — BAD IDEA.)
So, after dressing MP in the very last available pair of clean pants and the second to last clean shirt in the house — completely mismatched, I might add (because I’ve been locked in the house with a sick four-year-old for two days and just haven’t had time to do laundry. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.) — I ripped through a shower, quickly toweled off, and realized I left my makeup bag at work.
Which, on any other weekend, would be no big deal, however, early Monday morning I’m being interviewed on local radio.
I am aware that sounds completely ridiculous … helluuu – radio? I do understand listeners will not actually be able to HEAR my lack of makeup. But it irritated me just the same. (This might sound all rock star, btw, but trust me, it’s anything but. Just work stuff.)
The two of us ran out the door — me with my Clinique sampler face (thank you Jesus for Bonus Days at Macy’s), and MP looking like an impoverished flower child, whining that she didn’t like wearing jeans, because they had a BUTTON –and headed to WalMart.
Christmas has nothin’ on Mother’s Day. The place was packed.
This was our first time choosing a gift for a boy over the age of two, and it was … weird. After the obligatory browse through the “girl” aisle, we finally settled on this.
It was a hit.
Moms with boys, that’s who.
Looking back on our clothes and makeup drama-filled morning, the difference between the sexes couldn’t have been illustrated more clearly.