This morning when I was outside chatting with Kathy's beautiful daughters, their mother (that would be Kathy) stepped outside in her Sunday best. Without a break in the conversation, the daughters immediately surrounded their mother and engaged in a little social grooming, i.e. checking for lint and stray hairs and so forth.
Here's the thing about being the mother of sons. Something like that would never--and I do mean NEVER--happen in our family. And it was in that moment I realized I have probably been leaving the house for lo these many years, covered with stuff.
And also with my skirt on backwards.