Just to forewarn you, this blog is written mostly to women, so if you’re a guy, the following story is not for you. Why don’t you play Pokemon Go? You would probably find that much more entertaining.
This past week the summer heat decided to really crank up, and we don’t have AC in our little rental. As a stay at home mom, I’ve been baking, slowly, like a Thanksgiving turkey in the oven. Generally, my escape from the heat is a run to Target. I jump in the cool air conditioned car, drive to Target, grab my iced Caramel Machiatto, and then walk around the store until I find a reason to justify being there.
Boom. Found it. I knew I needed to spend $5 in gas for these cute dividers in the Dollar Spot.
Well, that escape worked wonderfully until our car broke a few days ago, again. This time, the AC went out, so goodbye to my brilliant plan for air conditioning.
“Horray! More car repairs!” said no human being, ever.
Being the crazy person I am, I still choose to give my usual plan a try. After starting up the car, I quickly realized that taking a 25-minute drive to Target in 96-degree weather was probably not the best idea. Especially when my baby was red-faced and crying, strapped in her car seat and my shirt was soaking up giant droplets of sweat. That was a good time to count my losses, turn the car around, and drive home.
All that to say, Des and I have tried to find other ways to stay cool while hanging around the house, like playing with water and wearing as little as necessary.
Earlier this week, I was sitting on the porch with Des blowing bubbles, spilling cups of water, and coloring with sidewalk chalk. Out of nowhere, my landlord walked up to our front porch and asked if potential tenants could take a look through my house because, for reasons I don’t understand, they couldn’t walk through the unit they were actually interested in renting. I hesitated, thinking about the mess inside the house. The house usually looks like a disaster zone after the weekend, and I still hadn’t worked to bring it back to ground zero. I warned my landlord of the mess, but he said it didn’t matter. So, I relinquished and said yes.
I thought I was going to have a few minutes to get some things in order before they came by. Nope, I tied up the dog, walked inside the house with Des, and they immediately walked right up to the door. “Whatever,” I thought to myself. “If my future neighbors don’t like me now, they probably won’t like me at all.”
You know… when you’re a mom there are so many things demanding your attention that you don’t always think about your appearance, as was the situation in this case. There was a knock on the door, and I observed Des run over to see who had arrived. She stood there, covered in chalk dust, with a sopping wet diaper, and bubble mixture dripping off her butt.
That’s when I realized, if Desirae looks like that, what do I look like?
It’s too late to find out now.
I opened the door to welcome my guests. There I stood, saying hello to complete strangers while covered in chalk dust, with a bum soaked in water and bubble mix, and sweaty, disheveled hair in my face. What made it worse was the fact that I was hanging around the house in my butt-sucking yoga pants, an oversized t-shirt, and an old sleep nursing bra I had changed into, which we can all politely say, does not provide the necessary amount of support. It was hot. Boob sweat is real. And it’s the worst. So I was not going to put up with my regular bra.
Breathable attire was my only goal that day.
I’m standing there, shaking hands with these strangers, probably looking like an old cat lady, thinking, “Awesome. These people probably think I’m an insane person.”
While they all walked through my house, I was busy chasing Des trying to stop her from dripping more bubble mixture throughout the house. All my new guests seemed like they felt a little awkward walking through the main floor, but I was busy with my kid. I figured they probably just felt as awkward about an impromptu walk through my house as I did.
When they finished their walk-through, they all gave a polite thank you and left. The whole situation was a little embarrassing, but hey, I figured it couldn’t have been that bad. That’s when I walked into the living room and saw why my guests looked so uncomfortable. Strewn out on the chair for all to see, was my bra, the one I had originally put on that day before deciding it was too hot. Seriously? I’ve never met these people in my life and they get a good look at my undergarments on day one. But it was the dining room that was the icing on my already mortified cake. In the midst of the toys and general mess, the floor was scattered with all my pads and tampons. I had COMEPLETETLY forgotten that earlier that day, Desirae had found a large pouch of feminine products and spilled them out all over the floor.
I think the two women had tried to be casual and understanding, but I’m pretty sure the two men were as embarrassed as I was.
“Hi strange people! Welcome to my crazy home, where apparently there are no social boundaries! Try not to step on those tampons. I plan on using them later. Thanks!”
Oh, my life… There’s no coming back from that.
I guess that’s mom life for real. The plan is if these people are moving in, I’m moving out. I’m gonna go sign up for Zillow now.
Happy Friday everyone!