Smoky voice, stringy hair too capped in grease to show the world. Eyes puffed and sagging. Mouth parted just enough to allow in air my stuffy nose won't let pass.
So I do what I have never done before: I borrow my husband's baseball cap.
Let me go back a bit by saying I was born in the south. No, The South. Mascara and Lipstick are my best friends. I was taught to never leave the house without makeup, never travel without a hairdryer (we don't trust those hotel things). I was raised to shop, shop, shop and started going to salons at a very young age.
But today...when the gremlins (i.e. children) are fighting to stay in their p.j.'s even though it's five minutes till go time for preschool (and I'm tempted to let them leave in footed monkeys and monster-themed button-ups)...and I've been up since I don't know when and the coffee isn't doing it's job...
I put on The Hat. I do put on lipstick and a little cover-up. I switch from running pants to jeans.
And we make it to school on time.
Now is that so bad?