Yesterday I devised a brilliant plan to meet up with Kari and her kids at the gym at 4:30 so we could dump them all in Kids Club ('baby jail,' as Kari calls it) while we worked out all our aggressions and caught up on our "wife time."
It seemed like a good idea in the moment of planning, but then all of a sudden it was 4:30 and time to be there, and I found myself still at home with 2 barefooted, snot faced, uncooperative, filthy kids that needed freshening up and myself still not dressed in work out attire.
I flew into action mode, wiping faces, grabbing snacks, Ipods, water bottles, running shoes... stripping clothes off frantically while multi-tasking my way to ready. When I made it to the part where I select something workout-appropriate to wear, I froze in panic, realizing that every single sports bra/ tank top/ yoga pant situation I owned was in a heaping mountain of dirty clothes at the foot of my currently crapped out washing machine that had overflowed and soaked half of the pile earlier that day.
I dashed toward the garage to brave the pile and try to salvage something un stenched and un soaked and I was just about half way into the garage when I noticed the front garage door wide open with every kid in the neighborhood out playing in the street... and realized that I was a crazy naked mom about to give them all the most exciting and educational show of their short lifetimes. I pulled back in the house and quickly hit the button to lower the door to secure some privacy while I rooted thru my pig slopped laundry...
I was only vaguely aware of the noise the door was making while it promised me it was closing as I dove arm deep into mildewed filth. I don't know what made me glance up when I did... but OH! It suddenly would appear that yes, the garage door is, in fact, on its way back UP! The Judas censor had betrayed me and I was about to be exposed... yet again!
I dropped the dripping sock I was holding and turned to sprint back into the house with all the might in my naked body... yet again narrowly managing to spare the innocence of the darling children of Apple Valley.
But this time, it was not without a price.
A terrible, horrible, fearsome, almost unspeakable price...
Yes, yes. I think unspeakable is the right word.
So I will leave you with the image of what I felt squishing beneath my naked toes as I disappeared from sight back into the house in an effort to avail myself from the eyes of the youngsters...
Thank you SO much, insult to injury.
Oh, and an extra special shout out to our wretched cat, who thinks she is doing me a huge favor by leaving these little prizes to brighten my life.