These are Jessie's feet. In shoes too small. Because I can find cute brown shoe A and cute brown shoe B, but not the twins to either A or B. And although you can't see it in this picture, there are chocolate stains on her shirt, and she has no shorts on. She's already doomed to repeat my fashion faux-pas.
Today we went to Bakersfield. Again. Unplanned... my family decided to throw my grandma a little birthday party at the last minute. Ryan needed some stuff from Lowe's so he can work on the roof tomorrow anyway, so off we went. I had planned on staying home all day; the kids and I went on a hike this morning, and I had been cleaning. I was (still am!) wearing shorts that ought to be retired and an unfitted tee-shirt one size too big. My frizzy hair is in a bun, with fly-aways from the wind up here. I should have blessed the public by putting a hat on, but I didn't. Ed was dirty from rolling (literally...) in the dirt from our hike. We drive down to Bako, and made out stop at Lowe's. Jessie pees rivers and lakes when she pees, so really I'm thinking "What's the point of diapers anyway?" as I pull her out of her car seat to find it, and her, soaking wet. We walk into the store and head straight for the bathrooms where I change her five pound diaper and put her wet shorts in my purse. She is now pantless- just like the last time we were there. We get our supplies (Ed was a disaster) and start to head out when I hear this "Karrie Sorensen!" (Me: Oh NO!) and look up to see a guy I went to high school with. I haven't seen him since graduation, and he is now a county supervisor. I'm not one who wants to impress anyone, but dang, I wish we had not looked like white trash. Dirty kids, nasty hair... and I live in a trailer in the mountains. I can honestly say I wasn't mortified, or even embarrassed. It was more of a "I should look in the mirror more often", and a "Make-up doesn't hurt" and a "He probably thinks 'That poor woman can't keep up with all those kids- they are so dirty!"... all I know is this: When I run into someone I haven't seen for 14 years, I'd like to not stink like yesterday's laundry and maybe have my hair combed. (But I'm thinking that's how he recognized me- I was never stylish in high school, and sported the frizzy bun more often than not. Just being true to my roots, that's all!) After I got in the car I called Amy to tell her about it, and she has a story just the same. And Jocelyn does too... WHY IS THAT? Why are you guaranteed to run into someone from high school when you look like you've been sleeping in your clothes for a week?