Picture Day

It's not every school day that the kids eat their breakfast shirtless (boys) and with my grandmother's apron on (Annie). Or devour their morning meal to the sound of me shrieking, "DON'T EAT A CHOCOLATE CHIP WAFFLE! YOU'LL GET IT ON YOUR SHIRT!" and "No no no NO NO NO -- no blueberry juice this morning!"

Yup, picture day at school.

All in all, they looked nice, but I realized going out the door that the four of them had wild striped shirts in different and not necessarily complementary colors that will look dizzingly weird in the picture frames that are on my nightstand. There wasn't much I could do with Annie's knotty, curly hair, so I shoved a headband in it and away she went. I wonder what she thought when she walked into school with all of the other preschool girls dressed up like freaking Nellie Olson, while she was wearing a hand-me-down rugby shirt (granted, it was from Talbot's and very cute, which is why I put her in it.)

Once I got everyone out the door in spotless condition and asked them to borrow a comb from the photographer before their final shot (Matt's response: "No way. We can't share combs or brushes. Remember? L-I-C-E?"), I headed to Dominick's for a my crack (oops, grande skim iced latte. Or is that iced grande nonfat latte. Whatever, all I know is that it's not the mocha with whip that I really want), where I couldn't help but remember this weekend.

On Sunday, at that same Starbucks location, I ran into an old high school friend (guy friend, not boyfriend. I married the boyfriend, 'member?) while he was waiting for his son's football game across the way. I had planned on running into him a couple of hours later, when I had makeup and a nice new Gap shirt on. I knew that my kids' school was playing my alma mater, where his kids go, and I wanted to look unlike my normal self to prove that I have not, indeed, gained 30 pounds in my midsection and lost 25 years in my face.

But nooooooo...I see him him right after I drop my boys at the field early and it's an unexpected encounter. This is a bad coincidence because a) I am wearing no makeup; b) I smell like a gym sock, because I actually woke up early that day to play tennis; c) I have donut frosting stains on my ratty tee shirt and sweats and d) am not wearing the Spanx that make me look five pounds thinner, which I need because I, um, eat donuts on Sundays. He is nice and hugs me, which makes me cringe because I am sweaty and gross and I'm supposed to be feeling all nice with a soundtrack of the Breakfast Club in my head.

I guess you can't really go back again. Which is why I try so hard on picture day to get the kids to look at least something like their normal selves. Someday, that freeze frame shot may be all I will remember of the 2008-2009 school year.

"Don't you forget about me...I'll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby."

Did I tell you that song was playing in the Dominick's on Sunday? Life sure ain't no John Hughes movie.