A slave at home mother of three girls, attempts to stay sane.
Where lofty goals meet a dose of reality! Gone are the days of primping and looking fabulous . Now I am thrilled if I have on clean clothes and remembered to put on deodorant. I knew I forgot something...again!
If you have ever read my blog, you know that I suffer from T.T. (Tiny Tata's). T.T. has been an issue in my life for many years , however after three kiddos, I now have T.T.T. (Teeny Tiny Tata's). If you are cursed with my particular affliction you are required to wear a tank top under most of your shirts and dresses. There is not a line of clothing designed for TTT sufferers and so most clothes just hang down way too far. Last night I was going out to meet some friends, I had a dress on and a tank underneath it. I walked over to the kitchen table where E was sitting she looked up with a confused look on her face. "Mommy, why do you wear a shirt under your dress?" I told her that if I didn't, I would be showing off my bra. "Really?" she replied, "My teacher wears low things all of the time, but she doesn't wear a shirt under. I can see some of her boobie, but not the nipple. It sort of looks like a fanny crack." I explained that her teacher has something called cleavage. She looked at me confused, "So, will I have cleavage? I really want some." Sadly, I had to tell her if she has my genes she might be out of luck. Middle C was listening in on the conversation and piped up. "Yeah, well I DON'T want a fanny on my chest. I bet it would get smelly and then people would call you smelly boob". Things went down hill from there.