It was bound to happen. I have been both expecting and dreading this moment for awhile now. So why was I so taken off guard when it finally occurred? Perhaps it was because this morning was a typical morning. Nothing special or out of the ordinary. One of those days when you aren't sure what day of the week it is because they all run together in their sameness. We got up, I made breakfast, the kids ate, squabbled, got dressed, squabbled, brushed their teeth, squabbled, put on their shoes and then had some time to devote their full attention to squabbling before it was time to go. Oh wait, there was one big difference. Today I decided not to shower after my morning run. Today I had the audacity to stay sweaty and wear my running clothes to camp drop off.
I should have been tipped off that this was a problem when I told my son we were leaving in five minutes and he eyed me suspiciously. "Um, shouldn't you change or something?", he asked. Innocently I told him, "Nope, I am going to shower when I get back from dropping you off at camp". Somehow I failed to register the look of alarm that crossed his face when I said that.
As we were pulling out of the driveway he told me I could just drop him off at camp, I didn't need to walk him all the way down the hill to where they assemble. Naively I said, "Oh honey, that's okay, I don't mind". Then he got direct. "Mommy, I really don't want you to walk me down. I want to go by myself". At first I thought, how sweet, he is exerting his independence. But then it dawned on me. "Charlie, are you embarrassed to be seen with me?". Not even sheepishly he replied, "Yes! You are all sweaty and gross in your running clothes. And you smell." True, true, true and true.
A lesser woman would have been offended, or maybe have their feelings hurt a bit. After all, their baby just told them to take a hike. Instead I had to suppress a giggle. For starters, this is coming from a 6 year old boy. Not his 8 year old sister who is still oblivious to the public suffering I represent. But the biggest irony was that I was driving.him.to.soccer.camp. Which is held on the football field at the high school. It was 85 degrees out and humid at 9am. People are getting sweaty and smelly just walking from their cars in the parking lot. When I pick him up three hours from now he will be so gross and dirty and sweaty that he will almost slip off his leather seat in the van. And yet somehow my appearance is completely unacceptable. Yow.
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