Fingerprints and Crumbs

I shopped for a raincoat today that I can run in - just in case my race day dawns as drearily as forecasted.  That was the easy item on today's agenda, as I was dreading the search for something new to wear for my birthday dinner next week (because if you don't feel good about the day, you can at least look good!)  I got lucky and found a dress at the same store that I actually felt comfortable (!) and maybe even pretty (!!) wearing.  I forced myself into a trip to DSW to find requisite matching shoes.

I'm not a shopper.  I never learned to like it.  Walking into a store and having a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g fit me was something that just never happened until about 5 years ago.  To this day, whenever I walk into a retail store, I just know that I don't belong there, where thin people or people with extra money shop.  Not only that, I can't recall a time when I didn't have to worry about every dollar spent.  It's just no fun for me.

Wanting to enjoy and relax after what is for me an exhausting experience, I invited my friend and her daughter over for dinner.  When you spend this much time alone in your home it's painfully easy to forget how nice it is to have your house lit up with someone else's presence, with voices and laughter.  My friend's little girl has a double-ear infection, the medicine for which has created upset stomach and a mouth full of canker sores.  Poor thing was so hungry she kept trying little bites of everything, although she cried out with every bite or sip she took, flinging little bits of food all over as she shook her hands in frustration.  My friend could not apologize enough despite my reassurance that I really didn't mind.  (I really didn't mind.)

After some book reading and some tossing and turning in the fight to avoid sleep, she finally passed out on my lap as her mom and I watched a movie.  My sweet friend kept worrying that I was bothered: at the books pulled off the bookshelf, the pillows and blankets on the floor, perhaps my limbs falling asleep, baby girl's snoring.  Would my feet have been numb and would wine have been soaking into the carpet, I wouldn't have cared one silly bit.

I carried Sleeping Beauty out to the car a couple hours later, and came back upstairs to my beautifully messy apartment.  Yogurty fingerprints on the table, peanut butter smears on my shirt, and brownie crumbs on the couch never looked so wonderful.  I think I'll leave it be.  I think I'll forget about tracking calories tonight too, and I'll quit worrying about what I'll look like tomorrow.  Tonight someone found love and comfort enough to sleep feverishly and yet soundly on my squishy belly and soft lap. 

Good body.  Good body.  Good body.