Quick, Look Respectable!
Well my MOM is coming down to visit this weekend, and I've sworn my coworkers to secrecy.
No one is to make any mention of my habitual last-minute arrivals, haphazard desk-tidying policy, or needing to be told three times where we keep the silverware.
None of that.
And there will be ZERO bringing up of the fact that four days out of five, I show up in a wrinkled shirt. Mom's particular about the ironing, you see, because she's really, really good at it. I feel comfortable saying she's one of the All-Time-Greats.
I, however, am not. It takes me half an hour to get a pair of pants even presentable, and even then "presentable" is being generous. Before I left she carefully instructed me on how to have clothing professionally pressed and laundered, but so far I haven't done it. So call me Captain Rumplepants.
Tomorrow, though, I shall conceal my garmental shortcomings by wearing jeans and a non-ironable shirt. She'll be none the wiser.
I also plan to vacuum the carpets, buy some flowers, wash the car, train the dog and learn French in time for her arrival.
When Mom shows up tomorrow afternoon, fresh from Columbia Metropolitan Airport, she will be One Impressed Mother.
Just make sure none of you tip her off, okay?
2 comments:
Parlais vous Francais?
Love and hugs
YM
I love how even your mother wants to make me iron, and I am not even seeing her. She needs to be an iron company spokes woman. People see her on TV and instantly feel wrinkly. I bet it would work. In fact I think I will go iron now.
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