The other day, I took the kids to a fast-food restaurant for dinner.
I like to keep their expectations low when we’re out so they don’t start expecting good things from me in the kitchen.
Sydney came home with ketchup on her coat sleeves. Because I’m a stellar mom who hates it when people think my kids have dried blood on their clothes, I decided to wash the coat. I tossed it in the washer with a few other things, transferred it to the dryer, and then placed it on a chair in the kitchen, to be worn the next morning.
Sydney’s coat is a dark pink color.
As I’m dashing around the kitchen, trying to get all her materials together and in her backpack, something catches my eye.
I peer at her coat, and see . . . what is that?
A pair of dark pink undies with the words ‘Victoria’s Secret’ embroidered on the waistband.
They are stuck to the velcro fastener on her coat.
I’m not going to lie. For a second, I wondered if those undies were even mine. They seemed a little . . . huge.
Then I realized that yes, yes they were. I wore them yesterday and tossed them in the laundry with the kids’ coats.
I’m so glad I narrowly prevented Sydney from being known as the “kid with the huge mommy panties stuck to her coat”.
But then I couldn’t help playing out the scene that MIGHT have occurred had I not noticed them prior to sending her to school.
I mean, now that I’m the only adult living here, who the hell knows what kind of crazy nonsense goes on in this house? Folks might be all, “Tara’s husband isn’t living there anymore. I heard that she spends tons of time sitting around commando, writing blog posts and eating Uncrustables for every meal. Apparently their house is a complete mess, with clothes strewn everywhere. No wonder her kid has a random pair of underwear stuck to her coat. And they’re so big! She must be consoling herself with A LOT of Uncrustables. That poor child. What’s her chances of becoming a healthy, productive member of society?”
Yeah. Underwear stuck to your kids’ coat BEFORE separation = super embarrassing.
Underwear stuck to your kids’ coat AFTER separation = endless speculation about your ability to be a fit parent to two impressible youth.
Luckily I dodged that bullet for one more day.