When we last left off, I was ankle-deep in Santas and winning converts to the Burlington Coat Factory cause. What lies in store for our heroine today dear readers? A three-peat on the dress that won’t quit? Do Addie and Edie convince me to go where no Mass fashion has gone before? Or does an unexpected dilemma crop up just in time to ruin everything????
Stayed tuned for the exciting conclusion to “the morning we all tried to get to church in time for confession without adding to our lists of sins.” Dun, dun, dun….
I mentally picked out my outfit the night before and hurriedly threw on each piece this morning. But as I crammed next to my husband in our one bathroom waiting for the flat-iron to heat up so my hair would look slightly less unwashed, I noticed multiple stains on my skirt. I can’t remember my exact words, but let’s just say I quietly muttered “crap” under my breath, and then showed Tony. “I’m pretty sure every item of clothing you and I own is stained,” he observed. I knew my options were:
a. Change into something else that probably also had a stain on it.
b. Pretend I didn’t see it and act surprised if anyone noticed it at church.
c. Wear the skirt and admit to wearing filthy clothing to anyone so kind as to point it out.
Skirt: Mid-calf length faux silk material. Old Navy. I love it, but it’s so static clingy in the winter. I heard that if you rub fabric softener sheets on static-y clothes they cling less so I rubbed until I smelled like “laundry that was hung out on the line in the sun”. Disappointingly, I only achieved a ‘hipster jeans’ level of clingyness as opposed to the previously even less desirable Lycra cling.
Tank: Old Navy
Shirt: Old Navy
Stain Remover: Resolve. After hosing down my dress, I looked at the label and totally thought I’d just saturated myself with carpet cleaner, then realized ‘Spray n Wash’ is now ‘Resolve’ stain remover. All this proves is that my mother-in-law takes better care of our laundry than I do because I don’t remember ever buying or using that.
Unfortunately, I don’t have any meaningful reflection on the gospel to share since Teddy was pretty uncooperative this morning. I can share that no one noticed the stains. And the moms in the cry room did have an interesting conversation on what God’s voice sounds like. I suggested it’d be cool if God sounded like Pitbull. I mean, can you imagine?!? In mentioning it to Tony he said it was probably blasphemous and I clarified I didn’t say I wanted God to be Pitbull or anything. And I don’t approve of many of his lyrics, but I guess my defense was too loud because now the kids are wondering if I believe God sounds like a canine. So despite making confession, I’m pretty sure I’m already in the doghouse and need to make a return trip next Sunday.
For more ladies who walk the walk and who talk a safer talk, visit the rest of the What I Wore Sunday Links at Fine Linen and Purple.
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