I was going through my old blog posts from my Wordpress account and came across this one. It's a couple of years old. My twins are now in seventh and eighth grade. It's relevant though. I still work in the same uniform:
My husband wears a suit and tie in court every day. My kids carefully select what they wear to convey who they are when they go to work--which for them is school. We wear clothes that set the right image and enable us to do our job best.
So, I work in pajamas.
On days I write, I get the kids off to school, shower and put on a clean pair of pajamas. The reason is two-fold: 1) I am comfortable 2) It keeps me at the keyboard and prevents me from shopping or leaving the house.
Except for last Friday. Yep. My work uniform choice backfired.
One of my 12 year-old twins had an after school party at a pool near my house. This isn't a neighborhood club, mind you; it's a high-dollar exclusive private country club to which my family belonged when I was a child, so complete ignorance isn't an excuse on my part. I knew the setting.
I've had kids at this school for 9 years, and I thought I had the party routine down. Not.
The kids were taken to the country club after school by parent volunteers--great; more time to write. I pound out the words until 4:30, which is when I leave so I can be one of the first in line to pick up my son. I assume the teachers and chaperones would have the kids ready to go and would be placing them in cars like they had at other functions. Wrong.
I arrive and there is no line. I watch from the safety of my car while parents (dressed to the nines) park their cars and stride into the country club.
Heart sinks. A twinge of nausea. Crap, I'm wearing pajamas.
Remaining calm, I decide to keep my eye out for someone that I know so I can flag her over to beg her to retrieve my progeny. No luck. You'd think out of over 100 kids, I'd recognize someone's parent.
By the time I concede defeat and accept the fact I am going to have to go public in my pajamas, every parent has arrived and is hanging out at the pool. I should have gone in right when I got there, grabbed the kid and beat it out. Now, I had to join a social melee of epic proportions.
So, I'm not fully-fluffed and in makeup. Nope. I'm au natural sporting a ponytail, a blue T shirt, and black pajama pants--my work clothes. In all fairness, they are lounge pants, not true pajama pants, so there are not little sheep or sleepy teddy bears on them, but still.
Hoping for the best, I launch mission "Get In Quick and Get the Hell Out." The mission fails.
It takes almost 30 minutes to find my son and get him out of the club. I am seen by and chat with almost everyone there. I must have heard, "You look so cute," two dozen times. "You look so cute" translates to "WTF?" in social speak.
My family thought it was hilarious. I do too, now that I'm comfortably cute in my own home again.
What do you wear to work? Any "you look so cute" moments of your own?