Sugar and spice and tank tattoos

My husband and I traveled to a nearby town last weekend for a little adult-only rest and relaxation. It was a great trip. We biked nearly 20 miles -- I can just now sit down without wincing -- and ate amazing food, including a slice of blackberry pie my taste buds will dream of forever. The weather was perfect, the waitresses were sassy and the gift shops sold funky jewelry.


Being gone most of last weekend meant we were gone the morning of Mother's Day. Which is a Sunday. Which means our babysitter -- whom we adore and is practically a member of our family -- had to get my children off to church on a critical morning. You can hardly beat a Mother's Day for a "Let's see who is really a good mother" contest at church.

And apparently, to my sweet little five-year-old daughter, nothing says "I'm a cutie!" like a tank tattoo on one arm and upside-down sergeant stripes on the other.

And her dress was on backwards all morning. Because she decided to put on a new outfit on Mother's Day Sunday all by herself. And the babysitter didn't notice. (I'm sure the fact that she was trying to keep my three-year-old son from pooping in his underwear had nothing to do with it.)


Good thing I have a lot of self-confidence. Becasue I'm pretty sure my ranking on the list of Proverbs 31 Women at church just dropped a few notches.

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