15 January 2009

The Beautiful Hold a Convention... and then I Show Up....

I never wear makeup to the Pre-K pickup on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I rarely match for that matter. And today, the situation was no different.

I wore jeans (that were clean, hooray!)and a green tank top layered under a grey short sleeved tee I bought on sale for $7.99 at Target. Yes, those two colors don’t match and I knew that. I didn’t even have a bra on as the tank had one of those “built in boobie shelf” apparatuses that make a bra less required. And since it was FAH-REEZING, I was also wearing a hooded brown sweater coat, the kind my mom always wore in the mornings while getting dressed and having her coffee (read: not REALLY for in-public use).

My hair was washed, yet uncombed, and pulled back into a (very dated) hair claw with bits and pieces strewn about. As usual, I had on my super comfy new balance tennis shoes.

I parked my car, grabbed Chase from the back seat and walked towards the front atrium where I and all the other moms wait for our wee ones to be dismissed. Only today I got about two feet in the door before I was bombarded with the smell of expensive perfume, hairspray and even more expensive 4-inch heels.

Apparently, I missed the flyer for The Pretty Convention as there before me stood a cackle of teenaged and early 20-somethings, dazzling in their swanky shoes and sparkly purses, from head to toe dressed to the 9s. Beautiful long hair, some curly and some carefully arranged into trendy up-dos. All wearing makeup, ears and necks dripping in pearls, and of course - GORGEOUS.

I sat down with my usual group of 3 other moms, all a bit too quiet for me. We were literally smack in the middle of 75+ beauty queens and we were all dressed similarly.

“Wow. Bad day for the clearance shirt and sweater jacket…” I mumbled to the mom next to me.

“Geez. Tell me about it,” she replied.

We talked to ourselves about how gorgeous they all were for a few moments, each remarking about how frumpy we felt. Then, one mom said something that made my internal record screech to a halt.

“Well, they’ll have their turn. We had ours”…

Wait. YOU had YOUR turn being a bombshell… I, on the other hand, am TWENTY FREAKING FOUR and I look like THIS in front of MISS AMERICA TIMES 70!!! I had “my turn” for .. Oh…. About 4.5 seconds scattered throughout my days of ole at U of A. That is, until I got engaged, then pregnant, then married….

And now….just because I’m a mommy doesn’t mean I have to look like petrified crap and them being 18 doesn’t mean they have to look like the offspring of Kate Moss and a Cherub.

But alas, I DID look like petrified crap. And they DID look like the offspring of supermodels and angels.

Does this mean I’ll get my chance later? Did I miss the boat? Do I get to be hot when I’m 30 or 40?

Oh I hope so. And then I hope I get to show up in an enclosed space with them in sweats, showerless with what appears to be dried baby poop on their shirt.

4 comments:

  1. I had a long comment full of lovely things to make you feel better, & then the Internet ate it. Rather than typing it all again, I'll simplify for you:

    The SuperSpawns (this is what I call those 'girls') got all dressed up just to see you, & all they were worthy of from you was cheap sweats. Take THAT, SuperSpawns!

    -Lydia

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  2. This was pretty funny! Isn't it always when you look your worst that you run into the beauty queens??? Why is that?

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  3. I always miss the flyer for The Pretty Convention!

    What a great post. I love it. Probably because I absolutely and completely relate!

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  4. Lydia - I'll just pretend you wrote me the most beautiful comment full of detailed compliments that made my heart sing. The SuperSpawns are going to be FAT. I just know it.

    SAHM Momma Drama - Dude. I know. WHAT GIVES?

    Erin- Thanks for reading! I'm hoping to keep up with your blog too! And have fun on your upcoming trip to FRANCE! I'm totally jealous of both your trip AND your amazing hubby.

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