This morning was another rush to get out the door.
Breakfast gulped down. Lunches made. Children out the door.
Lately, I have been giving Jack the keys and the kids get themselves
buckled in the van as Scott is finishing up getting ready.
This morning I heard a raucous fight break out in the van from my
vantage point of the front door, loud yelling and crying filled the car port.
Claims that someone had rubbed boogers on someone else and
then a pummeling of retribution had taken place.
As I started out the front door, Will,
who was still getting on his backpack, grabbed my arm.
"Don't go out there, Mom." I saw him scan me from head to foot,
taking in my outfit.
I paused and looked at him.
What could possibly be wrong with a blue sports t-shirt,
black and white checkered shorts and a crazy case of bed head
topped off by my 1 1/2" thick glasses?
Will couldn't look into my eyes. "Because you look awkward."
Scott came down the hall saying, "Good job, Will!"
"Scott! Don't encourage him. Now he's going to think he can say
whatever he wants to about how I look!"
Scott looked at me and then at Will,
"Do what you have to do to protect the family, Will!"
They were grinning their faces off at each other. So proud.
They looked so smug with their neatly combed hair and brushed teeth.
Apparently, they have formed a fashion police alliance against me.
But their worries are not over.
I can still take it up a notch in public displays of terrible dressing.
They were just lucky I didn't have my ugg boots on.