so yesterday morning it's about 9 and i'm in the back with the kids...
i hear a knock at the door and go to see who it is...through the glass door i see that it's two very well dressed and beautiful people on my porch dialing a cell phone...
i have no idea who these people are, and at once i regret that i am in my pajama bottoms and an old ratty outdated oversized mens t-shirt, slightly stained...my hair is nowhere near public ready...
in fact in my present state i look like somebody's down on their luck uncle...only the kind of *uncle* that's not really a blood relative, more like a guy that just continues to come around the family and so someone starts referring to him as *uncle* to the kids...the kinda guy who doesn't clean up particularly well and calls his girlfriend/wife/significant other "my ol' lady"...
the worst part is, even if i had *dressed* before now, it wouldn't be much different...unless i plan on company, i would have just had on a fresh ratty outdated shirt and a bandana to hold my hair back...which doesn't do much for the whole ensemble except to contain my hair, and in the process pull the skin around the top half of my face back thereby giving me a look that suggests i'm slightly more awake than i really am...i used to *dress* properly each day thinking it would improve my mood and make me more productive...it didn't, and i just ended up with a ton of laundry...
as i open the door the woman puts away her cell phone and at once gets a load of me, the bag of garbage behind me (i had just changed the can in the kitchen and set the bag right by the door so i could take it out later), and the unfortunately full recycling basket next to the door (full of budweiser bottles from a weekend visit with my older sister...the empty cardboard carrier perched jauntily on top)
the smile started fading from her face...
"barbara?"
(barbara is my next door neighbor who also runs a very wonderful pre school that happens to be right on the other side of her)
"um, no..."
"so um, this isn't the farm school?"
"no, barbara lives right over there and the school is next to her on the other side..."
and right then and there you could see that she wanted to shout "what a freakin' relief!"...but to her credit, she refrained from doing so...
i have clearly made her day...
"oh, because barbara said to look for a little red school house and we didn't really see it and we were driving around and then we saw all of these toys in the yard and children's shoes...we just figured..."...and when she said this she said it with a slight purse of her lips and an impatient little flick of her hand as if to indicate that there was more to be said about the matter, but that she was a lady and would not engage in such behavior...
(fyi there were two bikes and a frisbee in the yard, and a pair of wingman's rain boots on the porch)
i guess given the circumstantial evidence and the instability of first impressions and all, i wouldn't want my kid coming to school here either!...but this woman looked like she was already hearing banjos and wouldn't have been the least surprised to see me open the door holding a shotgun...
right then wingman chooses to join us...he is wearing a t-shirt, no pants, and a cowboy hat and carrying his baby...when wingman is around strangers he gets this sort of grumpy and somewhat vacant look on his face...the kind of look you see on kids in documentaries about appalachia...
and i see them watching him like they want to just pick him up and take him away from all of this...
i then try to explain to her where the school is...
"so it's not that run down looking building there?" she asks, pointing to the barn on the adjoining property...which is not *run down* and in fact houses two very sweet apartments...
"nope, it's on the other side of the little grey house...it's an actual school...they even have a sign..."
they thank me and leave...and what do i do?
put on my shoes and throw out the garbage...tamp down the recycling as much as possible and go change into a fresh ratty outdated shirt and a bandana...
and suddenly i no longer look like somebody's down on their luck *uncle*...
i do, however, look like his ol' lady...
cue the banjos, jimbob...
x.
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