6 days a week, if anyone to drop by to visit me, I would be perfectly fine with it. As long as it was after 10AM and I've had my morning Diet Coke. But that seventh day, Sunday to be exact, is my slob day. I do laundry so my outfit usually consists of a pair of pajama pants that are short enough to show my unshaven legs, yellow socks with holes in them, a too small sports bra and one of my husbands tank tops. I don't do makeup or hair, because with that outfit, what's the point? I bake a loaf of bread and cookies so my kitchen has a fine layer of flour over it, and usually a sticky spot from a dropped egg. The beds don't get made since I wash the sheets and I let my child run around naked, pulling all her toys out and doing a general destruction on the living room and dining room- okay, so the child is like this everyday, who am I kidding. This day of the week would be the day that my mother and sister decide to visit. I am given a 20 minute warning. Thankfully the child is down for a nap, now to fix everything else. I run a brush through my hair and grab mascara and lipgloss, maybe that will draw attention away from my outfit. I make a quick run through the living room and dining room picking up 5000 kitchen pieces, 3000 puzzle pieces and roughly 1000 books. Frantically I search through my junk drawer for a couple plug-in air freshener cartridges to cover the perpetual smell in the living room of an incontinent dog and a potty training 2 year old. Checking the library, I mean guest bathroom, for tp I notice all the toys in the tub and the collection of magazines. Magazines are easily stacked and I just close the tub door, that will have to do. Time to brush my teeth, whoops! the baby woke up. She took a really short nap and now I have to convince her to get dressed, including hair brushed. She loves her grandmother and aunt, but even the promise that they will show up in 5 minutes does little to persuade her to co-operate. After a struggle which includes some bribery with M&Ms she is shining, at least one of us looks good. Aaack! There's their car pulling into the driveway. Just enough time to pop a Thin Mint and hope for the best. None of it matters, they come to see my kid, not me.
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