"Isn't That Your Mom?"

A couple of days ago, Brandon asked me if I remembered visiting his classroom when he was in first grade. I do remember. I was there for his school carnival day. I hadn't expected to be able to attend, the opportunity had presented at the last minute and I had jumped on it. I'd been feeling rather ill that day, I was pregnant with Sydney (I think, if my memory serves correctly). Brandon then asked if I remembered what I was wearing that day. I didn't. He informed me that I had been wearing "pajamas" and told me that he'd been very embarrassed when I walked up to him that afternoon. He told me that a classmate asked him, "Brandon, is that your mom?" and that he'd answered, "No, it's my aunt."

Well, thanks Brandon. For the record, it wasn't pajamas, I think. I can't be certain because I don't remember. But circumstantial evidence points to the fact that that it may have been a pair of stretchy, wide legged, cotton pants. Sort of pajama-ish. Sort of.
Shortly after that story, I drove up to the local salon and had my eye brows waxed. And put on some makeup.