What I Wore: The Great Pretender

Story time!

Yesterday morning my husband and I decided that we'd be lazy and stay in bed late, watch CBS Sunday Morning like a bunch of senior citizens and eat Cocoa Puffs. Our kids were out playing in the loft (our house has a big open area upstairs right outside our bedroom) and we heard a knock on the door.

Now, once a month, teenage boys come around to the houses in our neighborhood for church donations. Usually I have a cheque ready to go, hand it over and that's that. But I was still in my pajamas. And not like, cute pajamas, but like when you wear your husbands pants and shirt without a bra pajamas.

My kids came running into our room. "Someone's at the door!"

(Let me acknowledge the fact that my kids act like it's Santa Claus himself every time someone knocks. It's like having two rabid chihuahuas freak out at the mailman.)

I told them to just be quiet and pretend we're not home. Lying is OK to teach children, right? They wandered back into the loft. As I settled back into my news story about how they make crayons or something like that, I heard a creak on the stairs. My son was going down.

The next thing you need to know about my house is that the entire front is made up of windows. It's like living in a fishbowl. If anyone so much sets foot on the main floor, anyone from outside can see very clearly. Unfortunately, if I went after my son, those looking for donations would also see me. And it never occurred to me to just put on a bra and go downstairs and take care of it.

Instead I panicked. I called my daughter into my room. Just as I was about to ask her to go get her brother, I heard Andrew yell "MOM! There are boys on the porch!"

Strike one: If Andrew could see them, they could see Andrew. They now knew we were actually home.

I hiss-yelled at him to get back upstairs. Instead, he yelled "MOM! I don't want to pretend like we're not home anymore!"

Strike two.

Thanks, Andrew.

And, just to round the strikes out to three, I still refused to go to the door. At that point, admitting defeat and going down seemed worse. So I waited, hoping that our visitors would simply believe I'm a horrible mother who left my 4-year-old son on his own at home, rather than a horrible person who pretends to not be home and tells her children to lie. I have no idea what happened to them. I'm guessing after engaging in an awkward staring match with my child they left for home to tell their families all about it.

This is up there with the story of when one of my friends dropped by and my house was a mess and there was a dead goldfish on a bowl on the coffee table.

Moral of the story: Always call before you come to my house. Like, at least 30 minutes in advance.

I promise I'll clean up the dead fish and put on a bra.

Anyway, that was my weekend. We also went to the cabin and saw a terrible movie with our kids (seriously, wait to Redbox Free Birds), but it was all trumped by being outed as a pretender by my son to a couple of 15 year old boys.

Aaaand this is what I wore on Friday. The suffragette shirt is back in action!

Tee: Infamous (here but only in XS) (cute!) (similar)

Jacket: Old Navy (similar) (plus size!)

Cargos: Almost Famous (similar)(similar) (cute too) (on my wishlist)

Boots: Payless (here) (these are awesome) 

Aaaand I'm not wearing any jewelry.

Do you like how my story has nothing to do with this outfit post? Because I sure do.

Also, it snowed yesterday. Like real, stick to the ground and still going snow. So my boots are getting a good workout and will be until around March 2014. Hope you guys are ready!

Now, does anyone have a good "people dropped by and I was not ready for it" stories for me?