Oops, I Did It Again
Even before I had children, I had some problems with my memory. The Husband would often come into the kitchen in the morning and find the cereal box inside the fridge and the carton of milk on top of it.
So, you can imagine what I’m like now, after mommy brain has taken over my already-flawed gray matter.
This is compounded by the fact that whenever we go anywhere, we need to bring so much gear. I mean, diapers, sippy cups, snacks, and wipes at the very least. The odds of forgetting something are good.
Just this weekend, we went to the pool. (The pool means all of the above plus towels, bathing suits, underwear, soap, sunscreen, shampoo and water toys.) Afterwards, in the locker room, I was feeling pretty proud of myself as each child was successfully dressed. Yes! I have a clean diaper! I’m awesome! Yes! Underwear for the girl! Oh yeah! I’ve packed a brush… I’M ON FIRE!
And then, of course, it was my turn.
Underwear? Yes!
Bra??? T-shirt???
Oh, crap.
All I had was my white, gauzy, sheer pool cover-up that I wore on top of my bathing suit on the way in.
I looked at my soaking-wet bathing suit already balled up on the bench. No.
Well, I had no choice but put on the cover up with nothing underneath.
I looked in the mirror.
I looked like I was either someone about to film an adult movie or Britney Spears.
(Could I make a bra out of toilet paper? Make swim-diaper pasties? Stick two plastic toy pails on each side?)
All alternatives might call even more attention to the fact that I looked obscene.
So, I took a deep breath, picked up Luke in one arm to cover one side, clutched the beach bag high on my chest for the other, and gunned it.
Which worked great. Until I got to the door and needed to free up a hand to open it. Which was also when Luke decided he was done being carried.
Um, I totally should have gone with the pasties.