Being a Stay At Home Mom can be a lonely business. Sure, I’ve got my favorite little people on the planet with me at all times, but sometimes a gal just needs to interact with a grown-up. This is why the cashiers at Target and Trader Joe’s know who I am. While it’s not actually their job to make small talk, many of them do, and well, they are a captive audience when they’re behind that cash register -(and being some of the only adults I’ll see all day, I take advantage of that). Same goes for the other parents I briefly see as I pick The Noodle up from school. So, I feel more than a little justified in ignoring the tugging on my shirt while I’m having an actual conversation with some other parents – a group of 6 on this particular occasion, right in front of the school. I have no idea what we were talking about, but it was “boring” to The Muffin, and I wasn’t “giving her any attention.” (This is what she told me). So there I was, talking with a group of 2 dads & 4 moms about “boring” things out in front of the school. Right in front of the school. With other parents scattered all over the place, and the school buses lined up mere feet from me. I had stopped paying attention to The Muffin’s shirt tugging and this is why I hadn’t noticed that the tugging had turned into unbuttoning. I felt a breeze & that’s when I looked down. She had succeeded in unbuttoning my shirt from the bottom up. There was only 1 button keeping the whole school yard from seeing – well, more than they should. I was mortified. And shocked. And angry. And completely amused. Thank goodness I was holding Yum-Yums – who had also been tugging at my shirt (from the top), and had a firm grip on the top button. I seized my shirt with my one free hand, and whirled around in a panic scolding The Muffin & laughing at the same time. It was tricky buttoning up everything while holding a squirming 10 month old, and trying to shield myself. Tricky, I tell ya.
I actually find my complete and utter embarrassment a little funny, because this Easter at the family egg hunt, as the wind was whipping my dress around giving people split second “free shows”, I didn’t care so much. I even found myself saying “Yeah, I’ve delivered 3 babies, I have no pride left.” Maybe it was because everyone in my parents’ backyard was family (and 2 friends). Maybe that’s why my face wasn’t three shades of beet. I dunno. In any case, it was at that moment that I realized that I’m not cut out to be a stripper. At least at my son’s Elementary School.