The Goddess of Late for Work

I woke this morning at 2:45.  That’s what time I always wake up.  I turned the alarm off (can’t risk the snooze at that time of day), but I just couldn’t get out of bed.  I lied there looking at my husband, listening to him breathe.  His face was so masculine, so broad and strong, his breath so steady.  I just wanted to admire him for a few minutes.  A few minutes wouldn’t make me late.

Then Ethan (my 4-year-old) appeared at the door.  He couldn’t sleep.  I tiptoed him back to his bed (shaped like Lightning McQueen) and lied down with him until he fell back to sleep.  Another 15 minutes. 

I was almost in the shower when Aiden (my 2-year-old) started to moan.  His soft complaints turned into screams for Mama.  I threw a bottle in the microwave and got back to him before he woke the whole house up.

It was 3:45 now.  I would have just gotten dressed and come to work, but I had to shower. HAD TO!  (It was a hot night in the kitchen the night before.) So I jumped in the shower, fast as I could, threw on jeans and a T-shirt (sometimes I’m really grateful I’m on the radio and not television) and ran out the door.  Still got here in time to read a few stories before we went on the air.

Now here’s the kicker.  With my hair as curly as Oprah and no makeup on, my coworkers said.  “Oh my gosh – you look 20-years-old!”  (That was Mary.)  Grant said, “Man!  You look cute today.”  Grant?  Are you feeling alright?  I looked like I got dressed in a truck stop.  Then the guy at the store said, “Hey – how YOU doin’?” and I knew I was on to something here.

Maybe it was the love expressed that made me late.  Or maybe there’s something to the I-don’t-have-time-to-do-my-hair look.  Or maybe a face sans makeup is just good once in awhile, but the Goddess of Late for Work was workin’ this morning.

My suggestion – try being late next week and let the compliments come pouring in.

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