Heard in the Bleachers

Little League. Bleachers. Moms and dads and sibs. Always an interesting sociological mix, especially in our community. I’m paying attention to the game (mostly), trying not very hard to avoid overhearing the conversation on my left, conducted by slim, toned wives with far more expensive shoes than I. You know, the ones with $100 haircuts and blinding diamond (plural) wedding sets. Here’s what I hear:

“…you should take your shoes off.”
“They don’t take their shoes off?”
“No! It’s incredible.”
“Not even on Friday? That’s cleaning lady day.”

At that point, attention switched to the conversation on my right. Red Sox vs. Indians fits much more comfortably in my sphere than the concept of a “cleaning lady day.” I’m the cleaning lady around Chez mimi. All the days are potential cleaning lady days. Key word: potential.

Which reminds me…time to throw some more laundry in the washer, lest DS be sent onto the field Tuesday night with the horror of grass stains for all to see.

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