Mother Hen

     Today I look like a mommy.

     Not the kind that you see with the perfect manicure and freshly blown salon hair, each and every strand sweeping across the shoulder blades when she walks.  Her alabaster, corn free feet are multi-lingual, today they are speaking French in their Louboutins.
     She doesn't speak in heavy breaths like me, her tone is relaxed.  She did her weights in the morning at the gym.  She has everything on her shopping list delivered to her home.  She pronounces each syllable with a carefree calm that I've only witnessed in preschool teachers.  It is not yet twelve o'clock and her dinner is already done along with everything else on her To do list.  Bitch.
     I am still in the black Sugio leggings that I sweated in on the treadmill at ten.  I smell like fried chicken, every last piece of me.  From my greasy home blown hair to the ankle socks I've been mopping the floor with as I fry.
     Make up was not an option today.  Skin moisturized and pores steamed, once again...by chicken grease.  My leggings and black tank soon turned into a custom body apron. Instead of bronzer and body glitter, I wear flour and cornflake crumbs.
     The combination of Coke Zero and not quite fried (but dipped and baked in oil) breaded cauliflower, would scare the nutritionist that I don't have to death.
     It's twenty to three and my princess has a double play date today.  It's time to change into my old faithful jeans from the Gap.  ANY t-shirt will do.  I already regret picking at the quazi-fried cauliflower.  It's sitting in my chest but won't quite emerge into a burp.
     I have already gone to the arts and craft store.  Painting their own princess mugs and making pictures with dot-dot markers should pass the time without much arguing amongst the three divas in training.
     The familiar toot from the maroon Honda Odyssey reminds me my 'playtime' is over.  She slides off of the vinyl backseat and jumps onto me in a hug.  It is the kind of hug that only a five year old knows how to give.
     It's beautiful, unlike the way I'd been feeling all day.  For a full minute, the rest of the world and all the disruptive sounds from it have muted.  Her warmth has revived me from self loathing chicken lady, to a gorgeous silhouette I see on the sidewalk aside me.
     I am mommy, and with all that I may or may not have in this world one day-my most glamorous accessory in my possession..

is her.