Recently I had the luxury of grocery shopping by myself.
I know, how often do you see the words “luxury” and “grocery shopping” in the same sentence? I live the glamorous life.
So as I shopped I started thinking…
anyone passing me at this moment would never know that I had five children.
Maybe they think I’m just a married career woman, out getting the ingredients to cook a candlelight dinner for my husband and I.
Or maybe I’m stocking up on snacks for a road trip with just the girls.
Or maybe I’m hosting a fancy-shmancy cocktail party and just walking the aisles, making a mental list for our personal chef.
And then my cell phone started ringing.
So I dug in my purse to find it and a diaper fell out.
While leaning down to pick up the diaper I noticed a syrup stain on my boob (breakfast for dinner = the best).
My daydream of the mystery woman I may be mistaken for was rapidly fading.
I debated on using a baby wipe from my
diaper bag purse to wipe off the syrup but a huge wet mark on my chest screams “I’m lactating” and would blow my cover.
Nonetheless I continued on. Maybe if my fellow shoppers did not catch the flying diaper and my purse strap strategically covered my boob-stain, I could keep up my facade.
I filled my cart with fruit snacks and organic goldfish, a monster carton of orange juice and three boxes of cheerios. Last but certainly not least, I moved over my jumbo box of Pampers in order to make room for three bottles of wine (on sale!).
Gazing into my cart I realized that it was over.
Kids in tow or not, I might as well look like this.
Tattoos are for the young and carefree anyway right?
What is your “Mom Tattoo”? What gives away your mom status when you are out without the kids?
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