Dear Lance,
I started off the day showered and dressed with my makeup and hair done all by 9am. Score! I was looking decent! It was a productive day! I smelled nice! I even have proof (Josh and I were playing with the camera this morning):
Unfortunately, this is not the wife you will be coming home to this evening.
No, the wife you will be coming home to will look something like this:
Perhaps a little crankier, but close enough.
Why?
Because of that boy.
No, not that one.
Surprisingly, not that one, either.
This boy:
Oh, don't be fooled by those sweet looks. That boy's a spitting and/or pooping machine. My shirt and hair have the stains/stickiness/smells to prove it.
I have never striven to be the perfect 1950's-June-Cleaver-Wannabe housewife. I don't greet you at the door in a skirt and pearls with a pot roast in the oven and clean, orderly children. That would be freaky. But I try to at least look decent. To at least smell pleasant.
But today I have given up. I know when I am beat.
Who knew it'd be the baby to defeat me in my pursuit of looking nice today? He's so much sneakier than he looks.
Love,
Maren
I started off the day showered and dressed with my makeup and hair done all by 9am. Score! I was looking decent! It was a productive day! I smelled nice! I even have proof (Josh and I were playing with the camera this morning):
Unfortunately, this is not the wife you will be coming home to this evening.
No, the wife you will be coming home to will look something like this:
Perhaps a little crankier, but close enough.
Why?
Because of that boy.
No, not that one.
Surprisingly, not that one, either.
This boy:
Oh, don't be fooled by those sweet looks. That boy's a spitting and/or pooping machine. My shirt and hair have the stains/stickiness/smells to prove it.
I have never striven to be the perfect 1950's-June-Cleaver-Wannabe housewife. I don't greet you at the door in a skirt and pearls with a pot roast in the oven and clean, orderly children. That would be freaky. But I try to at least look decent. To at least smell pleasant.
But today I have given up. I know when I am beat.
Who knew it'd be the baby to defeat me in my pursuit of looking nice today? He's so much sneakier than he looks.
Love,
Maren
3 comments:
ok, i think i could just insert graham for lance and girl for boy and it would be about me. brings back memories of spit up going down my back under my shirt - GROSS!!! so gross.
hilarious... and strangely familiar
Hahahaha...isn't it the truth. It's amazing how fast that happens!
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