On Tuesday and Thursday mornings, I’m solo. Both boys are at pre-school and it’s truly a great time to schedule all the stuff that’s just easier to do without kids. You know…grocery shopping, maybe a pedicure, my own doctor appointments, cleaning the house, folding laundry. So, today I went to Target after drop-off. Wandered around, found what I needed (and, as usual, also found more than I needed), then stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a coffee on my way home. Came home, unloaded the car, called my friend S., answered email, looked at Facebook, installed a couple booster seats at the kitchen table and then, while replacing washcloths in the boys’ bathroom, it happened.
I looked in the mirror.
And, I had a raisin in my hair. Right over my right ear. And it had undoubtedly been with me since I carried Little Brother into school.
WTF? I actually carried this freakin’ raisin around in my hair for the last two and a half hours?! In public?
Which made me contemplate the fact that, at some point in my married / Mommy life, I pretty much stopped looking in the mirror. I mean, of course, I look in the mirror when I need to. Brushing my teeth, drying my hair, etc. But, other than that? Nah. Not so much.
We were given a beautiful tiled mirror as a wedding gift that was generously purchased by my boss from a store in Marblehead that I covet called Comina. I can’t even let myself go in for fear I’ll spend $100 on a napkin ring. And when we received it, it seriously may have been my very favorite wedding gift. Finally unpacking all our pictures the other night (we moved in July but whatever), Husband noticed the mirror was missing.
Me: Oh, yeah, we have that. I unpacked it a few weeks ago.
Husband: So, where is it?
Me: It’s on the floor of my closet.
And, I think I probably stopped looking in mirrors somewhere around the time that I decided my go-to sleepwear was the set of polka dot pajamas I bought at the local Big Y Supermarket.
Poor Husband.
Confessions of a Serial Swooper 