I made scake for breakfast this morning--chocolate chip scake. What's that? you wonder? It's what comes out of the oven when you make scones from a mix. While the taste is fine, the density is way off, so it's more like cake. #1 deemed it to be scake--it's actually pretty good with clotted cream. I know that mixes are almost always a disappointment, but I got sucked in by good packaging. It happens every time. I'd buy Cheese Wiz if it was packaged right--although I'd never actually eat it.
I am wearing shpants today. What are those? you wonder? It's what you call pant things that aren't quite pants, aren't quite shorts, aren't quite capris. Shpants--another term from #1. I'm not sure if my shpants are flattering, but if they are, their appeal is trumped by the shirt I've paired with them. It's an oversized white button-down with little beads down the front--definitely not flattering, but definitely comfortable. There are times when I just don't care how I look. It's not that I'm overwhelmed with the tasks of the day. It's not that my life is meaningless so why not wear a housedress with a pair of worn out Keds, stick some pink curlers in my hair, and sit on the front porch with a big wad of gum to chomp on. It's just that there are days when I understand more clearly than others that appearance isn't everything. My clothes are clean, my face is washed, I'm doing something fun and involved with my family, I'm baking scake--so what I'm wearing at the time moves down the list of priorities.
I just wish I had the courage to shave my head, because wouldn't it be nice to not have to worry about hair?
I am wearing shpants today. What are those? you wonder? It's what you call pant things that aren't quite pants, aren't quite shorts, aren't quite capris. Shpants--another term from #1. I'm not sure if my shpants are flattering, but if they are, their appeal is trumped by the shirt I've paired with them. It's an oversized white button-down with little beads down the front--definitely not flattering, but definitely comfortable. There are times when I just don't care how I look. It's not that I'm overwhelmed with the tasks of the day. It's not that my life is meaningless so why not wear a housedress with a pair of worn out Keds, stick some pink curlers in my hair, and sit on the front porch with a big wad of gum to chomp on. It's just that there are days when I understand more clearly than others that appearance isn't everything. My clothes are clean, my face is washed, I'm doing something fun and involved with my family, I'm baking scake--so what I'm wearing at the time moves down the list of priorities.
I just wish I had the courage to shave my head, because wouldn't it be nice to not have to worry about hair?
Comments