There really are times in life when I wish I didn’t require grace. Discipleship #FAIL
First of all, this is to say that I do clean up well, and generally offer a touch of class to my Halloween attire. I don’t do scary, I do classy, historic, period, clever, or literary. I used to ride horses, I keep the helmet around for just such occasions, and I was dressed and pressed in four layers of clothing to suggest fox hunting.
Because that’s how I roll.
And again, I clean up well…but I don’t roll out of bed in perfectly pressed clothing, shapewear, hair product, and make-up.
Laundry day. Home with the Ridiculous Creature (new roommates’ not-that-bright Papillion), sorting laundry upstairs, he’s downstairs.
Door. Bell. Rings.
The Ridiculous Creature takes off barking, with all ferocity, up the stairs to me:
“INTRUDERS!!! DO SOMETHING!!!”
I mentioned laundry day, right?
So I go downstairs in what I have on: white flannel conversation heart print pajama bottoms…
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