Keeping Good Company

I am hoping the saying, "We are judged by the company we keep" is true because I hang with a really cute, stylish little man.  He's energetic, well-dressed and (usually) clean...plus he has good hair.  He's everything I'm not at the moment.  So I am hoping people see me with him and think maybe, just maybe my current exterior is an unfortunate phase.

Clearly preschoolers don't take themselves to the mall.  He can't drive and he wouldn't have the funding to afford the cute little polos with the pony on the chest even if he could.  His idea of dressing himself involves a Mickey Mouse pajama top paired with clashing swim trunks and red socks with treads on the bottom.  He wouldn't visit Charlie the barber if I didn't tell him it was time to do so (and then bribe him with a post-clipper cupcake for sitting still).  You see, his itty-bitty-GQ look is all my doing.  

So...

When you see me with my hair frizzing out from it's sad-looking ponytail: don't judge me.  I have learned to avoid mirrors since they are not kind.

When you see me wearing something frumpy and mismatched: don't judge me.  Just be glad my important parts are covered because let me tell you that is no easy task these days.

When you see me sans make-up with bags under my eyes: don't judge me.  I'm tired and could care less.

When you see me wearing the same black flip-flops everyday regardless of the fact that they don't match my frumpy, mismatched outfit: don't judge me.  My feet are too swollen to squeeze them into anything else and quite frankly I can't see my feet anyhow so I just don't care.

Instead, judge me by the company I keep.  The well-dressed, stylish, non-bloated, really cute company I keep.