|little miss getting her z's|
Often, after a long day peddling my enthusiasm (which is quite disproportional at times) for art to classrooms full of decibel challenged pre-teens, I find myself at home pulling on the most comfortable clothes possible and then collapsing on the couch (well, maybe just for a minute or two). Tonight, I have on a baby soft pair of lounge pants. They were a prized gift this Christmas, fashioned from the softest fleece and dotted with Kermits and Miss Piggys....they are also bright honkin' pink. My mind wanders (it's been reigned in all day), to thinking about shows like Walking Dead (don't click that link if you don't like scary things that bump in the night) or Lost where the characters are found episode after episode in the clothes they just happened to be wearing at the moment of mayhem (plane crash, zombie daughter waking you in your pajamas-run! run!, You know-that sort of thing). And I think as I look down at my attire "Would I be caught dead battling zombies in this?"
(You can use that if you want....when you get dressed at any time of day, just ask yourself that important question above. You're welcome, I do what I can.)
On a different note, we have been, well, make that, I have been desperate to get rid of our Ikea foam mattress (it seemed like a good idea at the time). The mattress and I have been boxing every night for the past few years. I don't always remember the scuffle but I wake up feeling pummeled all over so I know it happens. I don't know what I was thinking, the less is more Scandinavian thing I think is wonderful and I do have many Ikea "pieces" that I love, love, love (like my drawing table)....but not when it comes to a mattress. I am the momma bear of the "too soft" kind. I want to literally sink into my mattress, to be swallowed up, undetectable to children coming in to ask me for juice. "Is Mom in there?", they will ask and turn back bewildered to the kitchen.
So I walked into a mattress store last Sunday and bought the cushiest one possible, no kidding. Tonight will be the test, I will not be ducking, weaving or bobbing....just nodding.... off......in my Kermit pants.