i am a creative machine

Mona Lisa's Smile is one of my favorite movies.

There's a part in the movie when the main characters attend a finishing class.  The professor proposes a situation that would make any house-wife frantic:

It's almost time for your husband 
to come home from work.  

And then he calls saying he has just invited his new boss and his wife over for dinner tonight.  

What do you do?

The girls in the room collectively gasp....

LOVE. IT.

A perk of my husband's job as an admission's rep. is that he has to take the perspective students out to dinner.  If there is a wife tagging-along...so, too, do I get to tag-along.  It's wonderful.  I can dress myself up (which is anything other than my sweats and an over-sized t-shirt), go out, and not have to make dinner.  Like I said:  wonderful. 

But sometimes I get a phone call shortly before I have show up.  Oh no.  I haven't showered.  I have no idea what to wear.  The baby is still napping.  I've already pulled chicken out of the freezer to defrost.  What do I do?

I gasp inside.  For I've never been to finishing school!  Mike was lucky I even knew how to bake when we got married!  (You can live off of apple pies...right??)

Then I remember:  I am a creative-machine.  I can get myself out of this mess with my crafty flair!!

I run to the bathroom, throw on new makeup straight over the old.  (Gross.  I know.  But it had to be done.)  I'll just spray 3 spurts of perfume -one more than the norm--  (MORE gross.  I know!  Just deal with it).  I went shopping the other day, so I have a cute sweater sitting in a bag with the tags still on it.  I've heard the baby stir, which means she'll be up soon.  All I'd have to do is go into the room, look around for an outfit, and the noise should be just enough to force her awake (while making her think it was her idea in the first place...aka no crying).

But.  my hair.  my HAIR!  What am I going to do with my hair??

No problem.  Just whip up a flower made out of ribbon, glue it onto a bobby pin, and ))poof(( instant glam for the un-showered head.  Add a few velcro rollers for volume.  Pull it partly back and...

Oh yeah.  That's right.  Who's gasping now?  I so have this homemaking thing under control.  Well, maybe.  There's still the laundry.  The cleaning.  The cooking.  Uh-oh.  The cooking.  I forgot about the chicken.  And be sure not to forget about all those gross habits I have.  But, really?  Who's counting?