Every morning, after consuming large volumes of coffee, I get dressed in professional apparel, do my hair in a work appropriate sort of fashion and do my best to look like a functioning adult. Sometimes my kids make suggestions about my clothes and shoes. Sometimes they validate that I look decent…and if it’s an exceptional day, Louisa might (with a hint of surprise) say something like, “Mom, you look…good.” After spending a little time in the kitchen together, I load my kids up to take them to school. After dropping them off I go to work. Every. Day. My kids are aware of this. They know that I have a job that I go to immediately after they get out of my car.
But yesterday (unbeknownst to them) I didn’t have any clinical responsibilities or morning meetings. I took advantage of this little irregularity in my schedule and slept in later than usual. The result can be seen below. This is what I looked like as I loaded them into the car to go to school.
They didn’t even notice.
I’ve been wracking my brain since yesterday morning trying to postulate an explanation as to how my two fairly intelligent children had absolutely no reaction when their mom rolled down the stairs looking like a dumpster fire on crack.
Here are my hypotheses:
- They simply didn’t notice. Maybe their observational skills don’t awaken until sometime after lunch time. Or sometime after the age of 30. This would account for their surprised reaction when I told them it was time to go. At 7:50. The same time I’ve been telling them it’s time to go every single day for the past 3 years.
- I am completely ignorant to the fact that I actually look like a dumpster fire every morning, despite professional clothing and styled hair. This morning may not have been, in their eyes, far from baseline.
- I’m all sorts of awesome and appear completely competent even when I look like Hugh Hefner after a solid night of partying.
- Jammies are now fashionable with the hipster crowd and my kids think I’m on the cutting edge of hospital chic.
- Mascara and cute shoes are really all that matter. Everything in between (nose to ankles) is inconsequential.
- I became invisible. This would explain why I had to repeat my instructions to “Get your shoes on!!!” 38 times.
They were so excited to go to school and learn, they couldn’t be distracted by insignificant matters like their mother’s appearance.
- They assumed I had quit my job and now things like brushing my teeth and putting fresh undies on would not be necessary.
- They’ve been anticipating some flavor of a psychotic break for a while now, and this seemed consistent with the natural progression of my emotional deterioration.
I guess I may never know. But this kind of makes me want to up my game tomorrow morning to see just how bizarre I need to look for them to notice.
Photo credit: Danny Bartlett