I have a board meeting Monday, remember?
Huh? As I flipped on the coffee maker Saturday morning, hubby still in PJs, I stared blankly at the coffee grounds. Hmmm, no I don’t remember. It really didn’t matter. This was all code of course. He wanted me to occupy the girls for a couple hours while he locked himself in the office.
So ... off we went to Cafe Nero. I let the girls put on whatever they wanted -- which manifested in a rainbow of pink leggings, green and yellow summer dresses and navy jumpers. I pulled on the first thing I could find -- Gap curvy jeans with some sort of splotch on the leg (toothpaste? gravy?) and the gray and pink Laura Ashely jumper I've been living in all winter.
Oh well, it was still early, maybe we wouldn't run into anyone we knew.
“Hi Susanna”, it was one of the mums from the PTA. She was there with her sister. She was from somewhere up North. She had lived in the US before. She had two chdilren of her own. I found this all out as we waited for our cappuncinos to froth.
After they left, I couldn’t help but imagine the conversation as they walked out the door. “She’s really nice, but (in lowered tones) she writes really dodgy things about the PTA”.
A gazillion years ago, at work, I was the American on the 2nd floor.
Then after two consecutive conceptions, I was the one who was pregnant. Again.
When we moved to La Jolla, I was the known as the crazy one who had three children in less than three years. I know this was true because once I met another mother at the play park, and when I revealed that my girls were 13 months apart, she said she had heard about me.
In blogosphere, I’m known as the one who started that network.
So what do people say when you leave the room?
Photo credit: Roy Sinai
