If you ever see me sporting a sweatshirt embroidered with "soccer mom" or some other similar saying, you officially have my permission to shred the sweatshirt and sit me down for a nice intervention.
I can handle the fact that I spend most of my life in sweatpants and t-shirts and that I have only worn make up once in the past seven weeks. It's okay that my hair currently resides permanently in a pony tail. I can even deal with the reality that a hot Friday night in our house is when Chris and I BOTH manage to stay awake for an entire DVD. I understand and accept that a glass and a half of wine is enough to make me drunk. But - if I ever, EVER believe that it is acceptable to break out a "soccer mom" sweatshirt, then it means that I have just totally given up. It's intervention time.
I just hope the poor mom from the Y today that was proudly wearing her "I'm a Soccer Mom" sweatshirt has some nice friends who will hand her a glass of wine and shred that damn sweatshirt. That's all I'm sayin.
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