It was an annual event. A fancy Christmas ball put on by my husband's law firm. I'm not a dressy person in general (as evidenced by the fact that most people have never seen me in anything but jeans), but it's kind of fun getting all beautified once a year.

I just wish it didn't have to be in the winter when temperatures hover around freezing. It's fine for the guys who get to wear long-sleeve dress shirts and tuxedo coats. But for the women with the spaghetti straps and open backs... Brrrrr! Give me a Fourth of July Ball any day!

Anyway, I did my duty and did my best to transform my stay-at-home-mom look into that of a fashionista. I got my hair "done," I'd squeezed into a slinky dress... I'd even done my semi-annual applying of the makeup. I had it going on!

Or so I thought.

First my daughter came into the bathroom to watch my primping routine. She made the comment that I reminded her of nachos. I have no idea where that came from, and I'm not sure I want to know. I guess I'm glad she wasn't talking about cottage cheese and my thighs, or something like that. Nachos?!? That one will occupy my mind for a while.

So then my fragile ego needed some reassurance. Perhaps a Wow! Or maybe a, Mommy is beautiful! Or even a, You look like you could be a professional model!

Instead I got my three-year old stumbling into the room, looking long and hard at me, and saying, What the heck? Then without another word he left the room, his interest in my appearance already gone.

Oh well. At least my husband was more appreciative. I think by that point he kind of feared for his life. But in the end we had a good evening. And now I don't have to get dressed up for another year!