Sunday afternoon I attended the Austin Stories monthly get together for the first time. As I was leaving the house, the boys asked where I was going. I told them I had a "blog" meeting and would be back in a couple of hours.
Later that evening, Alex, my 7 year old and I sat on the floor in his room playing with Legos when I noticed that he was intently examining my toes.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Look at this." He replies, wagging his pointer finger at my right foot. "Mom," he continues in a tone that implied "we need to talk."
Sunday afternoon I attended the Austin Stories monthly get together for the first time. As I was leaving the house, the boys asked where I was going. I told them I had a "blog" meeting and would be back in a couple of hours.
Later that evening, Alex, my 7 year old and I sat on the floor in his room playing with Legos when I noticed that he was intently examining my toes.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Look at this." He replies, wagging his pointer finger at my right foot. "Mom," he continues in a tone that implied "we need to talk."
"Yes Alex?"
"You didn't go to your meeting like this, did you?" He asks, referring to my 1 1/2 week old Uptown Pink nail polish, now chipping and peeling.
"Yes." I tentatively answered, feeling like a kid caught playing with matches.
"Well, thank goodness nobody was there to look at your feet." He sighed, shaking his head as if to say "think about that next time."
Duly reprimanded, I trotted off to the bathroom to touch up my polish.