Mismatched Socks and Embracing Imperfection

mismatched socks
A few weeks ago, I attended a birthday party with one of my children. Everything about the day had been a little bit crazy. It wasn’t until I received a text from another mom in the class that I even knew about the party. My child had failed to mention when he received the invitation at school two weeks prior. After a whirlwind of text messages, a conversation about the importance of celebrating with friends and sending RSVP’s, an apology to the birthday child’s mom (her response was very gracious and she said her son would be thrilled if we could still attend), and a frantic trip to Target, we had just enough time to get to the party right as it started. Despite my initial embarrassment, I was pleased with the way things had turned out, and satisfied that, despite the last-minute rush, we showed up at the party right on time. In fact, I was pretty proud that we pulled it together so quickly.

That was until we walked in the door and everyone took off their shoes.

Then I remembered I was wearing mismatched socks.

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