There's something odd about coming home from work and wondering if you should change out of your jammies into clothes. I'm glad it was church night for N and I (and it was imperative I change clothes) otherwise I would've felt like a sloth for the rest of the evening.
I used to worry about appearing silly during dress-up days, but no more. No, I don't feel stunning or well put together, but not silly. I had to wonder about what the construction workers we have at our school were pondering this afternoon, when I brought the short people out for recess. Did they think I was a crazy inmate in charge of a bunch of little loonies? Me in my puffy jacket over my flannel robe and jammie pants - robe flapping in the wind. The short people attired in assorted Sponge Bob, Dora and HS Musical PJs.
One of my special little guys was concerned about how vigorously my robe was flapping around my legs and tried to hold it down. I told him it wasn't necessary - "I'm a flag!". Maybe I am a crazy inmate after all!