Can't hide the crazy

Today has been another Full Day Without Kyle as he is covering for another employee who is at the training in Atlanta Kyle went to on Tuesday. So I had one lovely day of recovery and now it's back to the grind.

Most of the day so far has involved cooking, cleaning, playing with the girls, reminding Madeleine to go on the potty, and attempting to install a Dora the Explorer computer game. All of those activities have been successful except for the latter, which has so far defeated me.

The big outing of the day was when we all piled into the minivan to head off to Target in search of big girl underwear (for Madeleine). Upon returning home I called my husband and told him that this simple grocery trip had, once again, reaffirmed that I am an awkward person.

First, they had no Dora underwear in a size 4T for Madeleine's big girl booty. I went off in search of the first Target employee I could find to see if he could check for any stored away in the secret place they hide all the sizes I need and can never find on the floor. The employee was a nice young man with a British accent. He complimented my children's behavior and went about using his scanner to try to locate my item.

Because I always feel awkward being silent when there are people around I decided to try to spark up a conversation by asking where in England he was from. He told me and then replied, "I'm amazed you knew this was a British accent. Most people think I am from Australia. Have you spent much time in the UK?"

"No," I replied... there was a few more moments of silence, "I just absolutely LOVE Kate Middleton!"

"Wow you are way more excited about my monarchy than I am."

"... I really love her clothes... you know... cause I am female and stuff."

And then he laughed at me and informed me that there were no more 4T Dora the Explorer underpants anywhere in the store.

So I went about getting my other items and heading out. I got to the car, loaded the kids and the bags, and as I buckled myself in and pulled down the mirror above my seat, I realized that my shirt had been inside out the whole time. And I only had put mascara on one eye. And I was wearing socks with my ballet flats.

In other words, I looked about as crazy as I must have sounded.

When I told all this to Kyle he suggested that next time someone compliments my impressive ability to distinguish accents I just let them know I watch a lot of British television since that reply would probably be a lot less creepy.

I'm really glad that my daughters are too young to find me anything other than THE COOLEST MOM EVER!

I don't even have lack of coffee to blame this time. This is just me. Awkward me.

I may have goals, like never wear mom jeans or don't cut my own hair and accidentally turn it into a mullet... or don't yell in a hysterical manner at their future sporting events. But even with those goals in mind I will probably end up embarrassing my children someday. I just hope that I am creative enough to have most of those times be on purpose.

And back to the grind again. Apparently it is time for all of us to wear hats.