What Not to Wear

Do you ever step outside and just pray really hard that What Not to Wear isn't getting secret footage of you? Thank you, reality television, for giving me good reason to be paranoid. If I haven't been tracked by the fashion police yet, it's only because they don't want to come all the way to my boring little town or they think I'm hopeless. Or if the fashion police are locals, they probably tuck their pants into their cowboy boots anyway, so I might actually look metropolitan to them.

Tonight was the only time I've been out of the house all day. My mission was to return movies and go through a drive-thru to get nourishment for the family...though I don't know how nourishing our Mexican fast food was...but that's not the point. The point is that I had two places to go where I wasn't required to get out of the car. I considered wearing my pajamas. The only thing that ever prevents me from leaving the house in my pajamas is the fear of a wreck on a major street where I'll be one of those idiots in pajamas standing on the side of the road while people drive by saying, "Look at that idiot in her pajamas on the side of the road."

So I threw on two unrelated, unmatching articles of clothing that met my only criteria:

1. The shirt covers my entire stomach.
2. It won't look like I'm in pajamas if I have a wreck.

I seriously felt like I had to run out to my car (which would normally be parked right outside the door but wasn't due to circumstances too boring to mention--I can't believe I've even talked about it this much) ducking behind bushes and grabbing a few branches as camouflage for when I darted across our driveway to get into my car.

I can't tell you how grateful I was that the neighbor with crap dog wasn't out letting his dog crap in our yard at that moment. Anyway, the whole time I was thinking, "Someone is filming me in my hideous outfit right now, and this footage will eventually be aired on national television." My only defense is never to trust anyone who approaches me and asks me to describe my "style." That's a dead giveaway. At that point I would be forced to do something drastic involving spastic punching so the producers would be too terrified to use me on the show.

Plus, as much as I'd like to have a brand new wardrobe, I'm not willing to let anyone throw away all my ugly clothes because those are the ones I like. And I've never understood how it was helpful to throw away someone's entire closet and only replace it with two dresses for an evening on the town and three outfits that can go from work to evening with only the change of a bag and scarf. What are you supposed to wear around the house??? And what if you have no job other than wiping butts and vacuuming? And what if the only time you get out for an evening is when you're crying so hard from your butt getting kicked by three toddlers all day that your husband takes pity on you and tells you to walk the hokey city mall for some peace and quiet? What am I supposed to wear for that occasion??? Do I really need to wear shoes for wiping butts and noses? I only wear shoes about twice a week.

So anyway, I have three kids to put in the bath tub now. They are covered in tonight's burritos and this afternoon's Chef Boyardee. The only outfit that would be suitable for this is one of those plastic drapes with the hood and arm cut-outs. They have a name, but it completely escapes me right now. Not my kids, the plastic thingy. My kids have names, too, but whatever.

Don't report me to What Not to Wear is all I'm saying.