I have become THAT mother.

You know the one.  The mother, who rolls out of bed, pulls on whichever pair of pants she steps on first and is set for the day.  I might pull a brush through my hair but if the kids don’t do whatever self-care task I assign, they might go days without bathing or brushing their teeth.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t lie about it.  Who lies about brushing teeth!  It’s not illegal, immoral or unethical.  It takes more energy to lie to me about it than to brush them in the first place!  Not Brianne, of course, she is the child that can empty the hot water tank in a single shower.  It’s the others.  Fortunately, they all seem to be interested in deodorant.  They might be unwashed, unbrushed and unkept but at least their armpits don’t stink.

My last day of semi-freedom is today.  Will’s summer vacation starts Monday.  I decided I had to go to the grocery store.  I was downstairs putting on my flip flops.  Lizzy ran after me calling, “Wait for me!  Wait for me!”  I tried to talk her out of coming because she slows me down.  But the five dollars in her wallet was begging to be spent, so she came.

We were in the candy aisle trying to decide what to get for our trip to Virginia Beach.  When an older lady came up to us, “What’s in her hair?” she asked in horror.

I, instantly assuming it was a bug, looked at Lizzy’s hair in alarm.  It was a dried clump of food.  “Maybe it’s peanut butter” came out of my mouth . . . from where I remain unsure as it clearly wasn’t peanut butter.  But there are times when my mouth dis-attaches from my brain.  I looked at Lizzy’s unbrushed hair and realized that I hadn’t even noticed that she hadn’t brushed it.

I’ll admit it.  I was a little embarrassed and started picking at the clumps in her hair.  Lizzy shooed me away.  And we looked at each other through a mixture of embarrassment and irritation.  How did this happen?  I decided that it was Lizzy’s fault.  After all she won’t let me do anything to her hair.  Right . . .  doesn’t it have to be her fault?