There is just an outside chance I am going to become one of those well dressed mothers who never fits in and is greeted at church with taught, wincing, forced grins. The one who should never be a Sunday school teacher and does not lecture her girls on the length of their skirts but the designers history, talents, and seam construction while sitting on the Left Bank when it is clearly a school day at home in Westchester.
Why, I have a friend whose Mom reminds me a lot of someone I know: She jollily calls Boboli the, "Top your own dinner night!" as she wanders off to the bath, is still referred to angrily in her (adopted) Catholic parish (because by upbringing she is Episcopal), for putting her own, "happy twist," on catechism training, and once declared her supreme goal to be becoming the assistant to a motivational speaker. Because being a motivational speaker was, "too much responsibility."
So, we were out for "exercise" yesterday morning (or snooping around the neighbors at the beach). Anyway, funny the way gates and yards make little vignettes worth remembering. Funny that we noticed them while we were supposed to me at Mommy and Me... as if. This little class is something I like to call, "Mommy's Hedge Peeping Training." I will be sure they always know where we keep the bail money.