Why is is that people have an uncanny ability to drop in on you while you and your house are at their worst? Case in point: My neighbor, whom I have never met, dropped by today to welcome us to the neighborhood. A few minutes prior to her arrival Avery colored all over her body (and the bedsheets) with markers and then pooped her pants. I decided to forego a wipie scrub down and just put her in the shower. As usual, she was carrying around her bubbie (blanket) and wanted to take it in the shower with her which is not allowed so I told her no. She started screaming--nay, shreiking-- like a banshee, at the top her lungs "WAAAAH!!!! BUBBIE!!!! WAAAAAH!!!" This is one of those temper tantrums for the record books. She is in desperate need of a washing so I put her in the shower sans bubbie and closed the door. She continued to freak out and scream and cry at the top of her lungs with even more fury now that she is without her precious bubbie. I put her poopie diaper in the trash and pulled the bag out of the can to take it to the outside trash. On my way past the front door, the doorbell rings. Since whoever is at the door has already seen me walk past, I am forced to answer it. It is a strange woman holding a plate of cookies. This is our perfect timing neighbor from across the street. Not only is Avery screaming like she's being tortured but my house is a mess and I'm holding a bag of poop. Since I have been trying to clean house all morning, I have not yet changed out of my scrubbie clothes or put on any make-up. I do at least have a bra on but am wearing this on my feet.
What Is Wrong With Me?! I NEVER wear this!!! But I was too lazy to put on tennis shoes while I swept the porch and not yet ready to take off my socks so I decided to put on my flip flops over them. I looked like an idiot. This lady looked me up and down and strained to see the screaming child being tortured in the bathroom, sized up my bag of poop and geisha inspired footwear and couldn't decide whether to drop the cookies and run or burst in and rescue the screaming child from the shower of doom.
Needless to say, after she left Avery got out of the shower and was reunited with her bubbie and sent to bed for a nap. As for me, I sat on the couch in embarrassment and ate half a plate of cookies.
