Oh, internet. You shall be my confessional today. It has been… well… forever since my last bona fide confession, and I have sworn like I have never sworn in years this week over car troubles (which I have yet to share) and dentistry issues (ditto), but that is not what I wish to unburden myself from today.
You know when you have playdates and you run around and make the place all nice and tidy to then only be destroyed again by ALL THE FUN! they’re having? Well, this time I stupidly left out the nit comb. Why was the comb out? Never mind that. Only I didn’t know I’d left it out until it was suddenly waved in front of my face.
“What’s this?”
“I… er… it’s… um…”
Before I could think of an answer, the child said, “It looks like a dog comb. I’ve seen them with metal spikes, too. This must be a small dog comb. Is it a dog comb?”
“I…”
Here it comes!
“… think it could be.”
Satisfied, the child handed me the comb and walked away, leaving me limp and cranky with myself. Why was I so embarrassed? STILL? Aggh. I bet most family households have them.
Not my finest hour, I admit.
What little white lies have you told?
