Whenever we have an event to go to, I always feel like Cinderella before the ball. There are a million things to be done and I need to get everyone else presentable first. By the time I am done with that I run into the bathroom and finally get a look at myself.
I look like the ugly stepsisters ripped me apart.
My hair is mussed up, I have graham cracker goobers and snot all over my shirt, and there is very little left of whatever makeup I managed to put on in the morning. Oh, and I stink too by this time. Sigh.
So I start trying to piece myself together as fast as I can. A quick spritz with body spray and new deodorant, clean clothes, touch up the makeup, my hair will just have to get re-pony-tailed. I have this fantasy of getting to actually style my hair one of these days But it only happens every couple of months or so. By this time the natives are getting restless and I need to make a run for it. I head out the door one more time looking like somebody's mommy who threw herself together, which is entirely true.
Glamour is something that comes with a Fairy Godmother I suppose. (And not having to get a bunch of kids ready as well.)
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