There's a garage sale going on with our neighbors. Well, I'm not quite like the other mother's and organized enough to get our stuff together in 3 days to throw a random street sale. The boys closets need a bit more time than that! So, our family is not participating. Did you figure that out?
Anyway, I was busy cleaning up the house from the Friday night Star Wars/pizza movie fest and other random events throughout the week. In between my trips to empty out all the trash cans in the house into the trash containers outside (please don't ask why I don't just take a big garbage bag around to each room and do it all at once because, truthfully, I figure this is the only exercise I've been getting and it would do me good) I'm trying to convince The Boys that Harry Potter chocolate frogs are not an appropriate breakfast food. Please try a banana instead while the biscuits are in the oven, okay?
The neighorhood husbands were recruited to put up the signs directing the random people who have come into the neighborhood which houses were able to pull their crap together. On a trip outside I run into two dads who were schlepping a sign. They look at me and don't say anything. These are men that I talk to on a fairly regular basis when the children play together. Hubba Hubba even has a poker night with them. Oh, I forgot to mention that I'm still in my pajamas. They just looked at me in my polka dotted bottoms and grandma like cardigan (b/c everybody puts on a cardigan before they get really dressed for the day, don't they?) and look away really quick, get in their car and drive away.
I looked down to make sure that nothing is peeking out that shouldn't be. Nope, everything is covered. I just don't think these men know what to think of a woman who actually opens the doors to her house and goes outside in the-clothes-that-only-her-husband-should-see. Nothing inappropriate, just not pressed-ready-for-Saturday-soccer-game-wear. I think I actually scared them.
Do you think they feel for poor Hubba Hubba?
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