Lars enters my bedroom, where I am sprawled out on the bed; nursing an aching back and sore feet due to my being completely and utterly out of shape, and now back to work on my feet doing a highly physical job.
“What are you doing Mama?” He asks while clambering up on the bed to sit with me.
“Oh I’m just resting baby, what are you doing?” I already see the opportunity of roping my son into giving me a back rub.
The boy ignores my question and sets his glance towards my armpit…A look of complete horrification crosses the young man’s face.
“Uh…Mama, what is that?”
“That’s my armpit Lars.” I say too tired to even attempt being offending by the child’s inquiry.
“But…But why is it so scary looking?” His face is now so close to my pit examining, I can feel his breath creeping up my underarm.
Before I have time to answer he continues on…
“I think you need to get some spray for that Mom.” It is a direct statement, no tip toeing around the fact for this kid, he just says it how it is.
“What do you mean spray?”
“You know armpit spray.” Like duh…How can I not know what he is talking about…
“No Mom! You know, you spray it on your armpits and it makes them look and smell nice.”
“Where do you get this armpit spray?”
“I’d say…Probably the dollar store.”
“Sounds about right…I’ll look into that Lars.”
“You should Mom…And soon.”
Not even fifteen minutes later my brother and Ashley come over for a visit. As we sit, and I gripe to my pregnant sister-in-law about how uncomfortable ‘I am’ she grabs my feet and proceeds to give me a foot rub.
She stops abruptly.
“God Lindsay, you are really letting yourself go. Look at your armpits and hairy legs…Even your feet are in need hair removal!” And I all too soon, I am aware of where my son has learned his no-nonsense way with commentary.
Ok so in a matter of thirty minutes I have had two people, basically tell me I am a hot mess…Hot being the inoperative word. So I suppose it may be time to buck up, embrace being back to work, thank my lucky stars that the sequencing of events leading up to, and post finding this job has happened the way it has…
And maybe in between all of it, cut out a bit of time for a date with the razor.