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Lori’s Law

April 28, 2011

I recently had a friend who is an accomplished doctor drop something off at my house when I wasn’t expecting her. I know that if I ever stopped by her house, I would find the following: an immaculate house filled with tantalizing aromas of her home cooking; her three-year-old twins practicing the piano and wearing coordinated outfits; and her five-year-old son setting the table for dinner.

This is what she saw when she came to my door: my three-year-old daughter bellied up to the coffee table (naked, of course) eating a dinner of goldfish crackers; my seven-year-old son running around in shorts and rubber boots, with wool socks hiked up like thigh-highs; approximately sixty-seven loads of unfolded laundry on the couch; and a box of mangos (random!) sitting atop a month’s worth of flyers on our front entrance bench.

Running into people I know when I resemble a POW escapee who’s put in ten years of hard labour without access to quality hair care products is something that happens to me quite often. I call it Lori’s Law: the worse I look, the better chances are of running into my prom date.

After my daughter was born, I looked like most new mothers (i.e. hell) but my baby was so cute that people rarely noticed my zombie-like appearance. One morning I was trolling Costco, extremely proud of the fact that I was dressed before dinnertime, when I bonked my cart into a woman I’d known since high school.

We hadn’t seen each other in years, but were close enough at one time that I’d been her bridesmaid (tangent: if you’re sick of being my friend, just ask me to be in your wedding party…I guarantee we won’t be speaking by Christmas).

She looked at me, obviously taken aback by my dishevelled appearance, as we exchanged banal pleasantries. She oohed and ahhed over my baby, but it was obvious she didn’t mean it.  And looking in the car seat, who could blame her? My daughter looked like the “before” shot of a baby makeover show.*

She wore a frayed, mint green sleeper that did nothing for her complexion – although the shmootz on her face wasn’t helping – and she was sporting a newborn mullet with a hint of mohawk. Long story short, we were not looking our best.

I wondered if seeing people you know when you’re looking like crap was a universal experience, but then I thought of the Costco encounter (she still looks like a model) and my doctor friend (smart and gorgeous). So now, with apologies to my daughter, I realize that this phenomenon is completely and unavoidably hereditary.

The one day you are guaranteed to run into your ex-boyfriend.

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* Back off, TLC – I’m totally pitching that idea to Mark Burnett.

13 Comments leave one →
  1. April 28, 2011 9:57 am

    I must be related to you.

    The longer it’s been since I’ve showered or brushed my hair (or teeth or eyelashes with mascara), the more people I run into at our local grocery store.

    The worst moment:

    I had pink eye. Yep. Swollen, no make-up, infectious. And I bumped into my ex-boyfriend. A man who had PROPOSED to me at one time. I had NEVER seen him at that particular grocery store before and he was there. With his adorable son (who bore the name WE had discussed as being the perfect boy’s name…). I didn’t have to worry that he might start stalking me after this encounter. That’s certain.

    Yep. If it’s hereditary, you and I are cousins and my daughter is screwed.

    • May 1, 2011 8:57 pm

      Ha – our daughters deserve better than us…but not the ex-boyfriends – they’ll never get that lucky again 😉

  2. Deborah the Closet Monster permalink
    April 28, 2011 12:43 pm

    I knew I would regret clicking “Like” on this only two paragraphs in! 😉

    Before I read this, my awesome pattern recognition skills left me not putting together all the times I’ve gone out for, say, some bananas, in my slobber-covered PJs only to run into someone I used to date. I’d viewed each incident as a stand-alone, but this entry allowed me to see the number of times I have these encounters compared to the number of times I go out in slobber-covered PJs. The ratio is almost 100%.


    I’d like to say I won’t leave my house looking like the walking dead, but it’s going to happen. It’s the nature of parenting. At least the next time I walk directly into the stud I used to crush on, I’ll know it’s not just me. 😉

    • May 1, 2011 8:59 pm

      We should start a support group…slobs-outta-the-house-anonymous

      • Deborah the Closet Monster permalink
        May 1, 2011 9:03 pm

        Heh. I should also join a group for failures to properly use the word “not” to convey one’s meaning. For example, I present the following:
        I knew I would regret clicking “Like” on this only two paragraphs in! versus
        I knew I would not regret clicking “Like” on this only two paragraphs in!

        Totally hypothetical, of course. *headdesk*

  3. April 28, 2011 12:55 pm

    We could totally hang! I usually have some kind of crap (sometimes actual crap) on my clothing, I rarely shower, my son’s fingernails look like he’s digging a tunnel out of prison with his bare hands, and my cat has dreadlocks…dreadlocks!
    And, once when I hadn’t slept, was having a particularly bad case of adult acne, and picked my clothing out of the dirty clothes pile I ran into Vincent D’onofrio when Law & Order was filming in my hood. Needless to say my dreams of running away with him and becoming a star in a made for me program by Dick Wolf disappeared within seconds!
    I heart you!!!

    • May 1, 2011 9:01 pm

      Aggghhh – I’ve yet to have a run-in with a famous dude…I’m sure the fates are just waiting for me to have my wisdom teeth recently removed (or similar) before standing next to Mr. Depp. Don’t get me started on how much I heart you or I’ll be charged with cyber-stalking…

  4. April 28, 2011 11:21 pm

    Oh man, that is the truth! It’s when I have to run to the store, disheveled, unshowered, without makeup that I run into that hot guy I had a crush on through high school. The one who never returned the affection. The one you want to walk away going, “Damn, I could have had that”, when instead he walks away going, “Phew, glad I skipped that – she looks like hell!” Okay, so it didn’t exactly happen that way – instead, I was sick with a fever and the flu and probably looked worse than hell.

  5. April 29, 2011 10:51 am

    That is why I try desperately to look semi-coherent and decent when I’m out. Because I can’t handle that sick feeling.

    Still, you’re way more awesome than both of them.

    PS How is it that weddings drive bridesmaids apart? It happens to me, too!

    • May 1, 2011 9:02 pm

      I’ve vowed to slap myself together before leaving the house from this point forward.

  6. Tracie permalink
    April 29, 2011 5:20 pm

    It’s another one of those universal rules. Happens to me all the time.

    But…it could happen so much because I never look nice. *shrugs*

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