When you’re a kid, your mother warns you about leaving the house looking less than your best.
“You never know who you might run into.”
Yes. Well. Since the dawn of of my mommy-hood I’ve played pretty fast and loose with leaving the house. I figure there are people walking around wearing curlers in their hair–I’m not going to attract that much attention. Besides, most of the people I know have jobs–the kind that take place in offices.
Yesterday I was forced to admit that things may have gone too far.
I went out in my pajamas–a t-shirt that my mom bought me on a cruise, a pair of red capri PJ pants, and some slip-on tennis shoes. Nothing matched. Not even close. My hair was unbrushed and pulled back into a ball of swirly mess. I had no plans to leave the car–I was just going to hit the drive thru for my daily fix of Chick fil a.
Charlie was wearing a t-shirt and shorts in different shades of blue. No shoes. No socks. I really never let him go out like that, but he was cranky and ready to go and again, I WAS NOT GOING TO LEAVE THE CAR.
But then I remembered something.
You see, on Friday I dropped off a season of Monk at the library and then later that day they called and told me one of the discs was missing. I tried to bring it back that afternoon, but our library closes early on Fridays–please do not get me started on our library’s bizarre hours. They’re pretty much never open when you want them to be AND they lock their drop boxes when they’re closed. What’s the point of the drop boxes you ask? I’m wondering the exact same thing.
So I’m driving home and I remember that I still have that disc in the car and I start getting all twitchy because I hate it when I owe somebody something. Makes my skin crawl.
I figure I’ll just run over to the library–it’s early, no one will be there. Usually there’s a lone librarian and a teenager trying to get on the Internet at that time of day.
Well, I was wrong.
No only was the entire library staff in attendance as I hauled my barefooted babe into the facility, but also the head of our parish’s library system.
They were doing a giveaway of Jazz Fest tickets and I was asked to do the official drawing.
I was like Miss White Trash USA up there, y’all, shaking hands and introducing myself while STILL WEARING MY PAJAMAS.
My friend who works at the library Facebooked me later to tell me that it’ll be up on the library’s website in the next few days.
Next time, I’ll just pay the late fee.