So Now I'm an Object of Pity

It's 6:00 and we're hungry. After abandoning plans for the Dinosaur Museum due to cranky children we all head into town for dinner. Because I had just jumped out of the shower I had on no make up and my hair was still damp.

Because of road construction and Friday night traffic it takes forever to get into town. Not wanting to waste time I grabbed a pile of bags that were sewn but needed to be clipped. I clipped and clipped, fabric and thread, on our slow journey to dinner.

I'm behind on laundry and when I dressed myself this evening choices were slim. I decided on blue corduroy pants that are, well, several sizes too big and quite frankly look like men's sailor pants from the 50's. I paired those beauties with a red, peach, navy, white, and baby blue polyester, floral print, button down shirt from a thrift store. And then I topped off the whole ensemble with sky blue cardigan whose ties are lost and a pair of black flip flops.

After picking up dinner I remembered that I wanted to buy some dish towels at the Dollar Store for a sewing project I've run across recently. Everyone stayed in the van-bus while I ran in and bought 15 towels.

Standing in the check out line I heard a couple whispering about how sad it would be if they had to shop at the Dollar Store "for real" and how they wish they could help the people here. "Oh, me too," I thought and turned around to smile at the cute couple (who really were darling, young, sweet, early 20's...). My eyes made contact with the wife who smiled so kindly and then it hit me....IT WAS ME THEY FELT SORRY FOR!!!

Suddenly my focus zoomed out and I saw what I must look like...over sized ill fitting thrift store clothes that made me look like a skeleton (which I'm not---I still weigh 5 .lbs more than I did when I got pregnant with eliza), pants covered in fabric clippings, thread, and mounds of white fake fur (compliments of a really cool bag I made today), no make up with the bonus of a giant angry patch of eczema taking over my forehead and distressed air dried hair(picture the Gene Wilder Willie Wonka). There I was looking like a crazy cat lady stocking up on dish towels alone on a Friday night.

So now I've become an object to pity. Good job liz....good job...all I want to know now is, if that couple felt so bad for me why didn't they offer to pay for my dish towels? Hum??? For all they knew I could have been using the towels to build a shelter for me and my 700 precious kitties. Young people these days. Sheez!