Dolled up

I sit here all dolled up. Two coats of mascara. Three different lipsticks. Sure, sure. . . . the dog biscuits are out, and the “Alphabet with Animals” placemat is in its proper place. I did dust, but not as well as I should. I’ve changed sweaters twice and opted for the hot pink one. And I switched to the subtler earrings since I have a flashy necklace.

They want to feature my hobbies. Well, I give all my smocking away, so that can’t work. My doll house is behind the Christmas decor boxes, and the porch is slightly askew, so it’s not ready to showcase. Besides, how can a 5.5mo pregnant lady sit gracefully next to a honkin’ big house like that? The knitting I thought would be neat, but she didn’t. Ho-hum. . . . We’re doing the cobalt blue depression glass. That’ll work. It’s cheerful and bright and domestic. . . . and mostly dusty.

Sugar and I have, at this moment, gotten our groove back. The secret? Elimination is to Sugar what a Progressive dinner is to Baptists. She doesn’t do ALL her work at one “outing.” No, no. . . . she does it in stages. A little tinkle here, and then inside. A great big load there, and then inside. Another longer tinkle. . . . and then we’re done. So until I’m PRETTY sure she’s empty, she stays on my lap.

But not now. No, no. . . . can’t have Greenie crumbs on my sweater for the photo. EEK. She’ll be here soon. Licking my teeth for lipstick. Checking my neckline for stray unmentionables. There. She’d better get here quick.