… but I beg to differ.
Itty Bit literally fell.out.of.me while I was WALKING, with my hospital gown still securely covering all active deployment zones; and while the doctor was out of the room taking a potty break.
(Serves her right for not believing the “first time mom” who claimed the baby was right there.)
But the modesty that has to do with presenting yourself as a normal blogger who wouldn’t do something shamefully hilarious and then write about it?
Yeah… I think we can’t quite unring that bell, eh?
So dive right in with me… where you’ll feel saner with each paragraph.
WHO DOES THAT?!?, Dressed For Success edition.
The cumulative effect of weeks of sleep deprivation was impossible to deny today.
For your reading pleasure (and because I apparently have no more shame now that y’all have seen my husband in a spa robe), walk through my day with me, k?
5:04am: Mr. Daddy wakes me up.
5:06am: I realize that nice work pants #1 are in the dryer. And have been for 2.5 days.
5:07am: Pull out nice work pants #2.
5:10am: Step into shower and nearly drown while yawning.
5:17am: Try to wrestle my curls into semi-obedience.
5:18am: Hair dryer diffuser flies off at 58mph and nearly beans me.
5:24am: While smugly congratulating myself for avoiding the deadly diffuser, burn my hand on the still-hot hair dryer plug.
5:32am: Realize that pants #2 were retired for a reason.
A reason that has to do with a certain “seam separation”
5:33am: Trade green stripey underwear for black underwear.
5:34am: Grab sweater that covers my black-clad rear end.
5:35am: I’m a ninja, I’m a ninja. They won’t even see a gap.
(see, I told you… no shame)
7:00am: Consume coffee. Imperative for sleep-deprived dummies.
7:30am: Consume bottle of water.
7:32am: Bladder emergency.
7:33am: Realize that a certain carefully coordinated undergarment is INSIDE OUT.
7:37am: Weigh critical factors in deciding whether it is worth nearly completely disrobing in a public restroom… just to feel better about carrying the secret that my underwear is now right side out.
(what? You thought I was going to TELL you if I did that? Shame on you!)
8:21am: Bladder emergency #2
9:47am: Bladder emergency #3
11:38am: Bladder emergency #4
(and that’s going to be my little secret, whether or not I’d already handled the situation, or whether I couldn’t stop laughing as I washed my hands)
3:45pm: Tell Mr. Daddy about my colossal faux pas. He rolls his eyes.
5:30pm: Home for dinner.
6:00pm: Throw load into washing machine… so that I can add wet clothes to work pants #1 in the dryer to ghetto iron them.
7:20pm: Transfer wet clothes to dryer.
7:21pm: Fill washer with new load, add associated cleaning ingredients.
8:36pm: Check dryer. “Smart” sensor shut it off 20 minutes earlier while still wet.
9:42pm: Almost dry.
10:21pm: Remove dry clothes and beautifully wrinkle-free work pants.
10:23pm: Realize that I never STARTED THE WASHING MACHINE, and the load I was staying up waiting for… was still original scent.
10:47pm: Work up the nerve to actually post about intentionally wearing a pair of pants to work that had a split down the backside, and the dilemma of deciding whether it was worse to bare it all in a public restroom or risk a paramedic giggling over a new version of the clean underwear story.
12:01am: Decide that was the longest sentence I’ve ever written.
12:02am: Hit PUBLISH and hope I don’t have blogger’s remorse when I awake.
Oh… and for the record? My hair still turned out like this:
(And I would claim my super sekrit photo ninja skills for this, except that I turned to look at Itty Bit, and the lady cutting his hair actually grabbed my phone to look at the cover, and accidentally snapped this picture. And yes, they were very confused at the hair salon when I said the appointment was for Itty Bit. Hush)