Have you ever been in an important meeting where you had to do a lot of the talking? And then five minutes after leaving said meeting you realized that there was lipstick on your teeth?
Oh. You haven't? Gotcha. Lucky you.
I'm curled up in bed, trying not to think about all the talking I had to do in the meeting and feeling like we should have been sitting at a larger conference table. When I got home from work to take over watching the kids, I immediately told Jeff that I had lipstick on my teeth during the meeting today. He shrugs, "I'm sure no one noticed, Bran." My response: "How could they not? It's pink!" He has no answer. (Not helpful.)
He left and I kicked off my shoes that I love but that kill my feet, slid into my super soft socks, pulled on one of the oldest T-shirts I own (just for the visual, it says Hard Rock Café, Edinburgh on it), put on my shorts, then realized I put them on backward, then realized I don't care and left them that way, told Ashtyn to lay down for a nap again (who informs me that she's an expert camper and needs to be studying about expert camping), and now I'm under my covers for probably the ten minutes I have before both kids want to get up. And I'm telling you that there was pink lipstick on my teeth. We can only hope it wasn't glaringly noticeable.
I need chocolate.
The expert camper has emerged from her room and has been washing her hands for ten minutes in the bathroom.
Much thanks to my sister Sara for texting me today with an offer to babysit this weekend. I am in dire need of such a thing.