What, me worry?

My godson and his partner live barely 50 yards up the road. We have a copy of each other's front door key, in case of whatever.

She rang the bell this morning. Her 4 year old was in tow, and her little one was in her car up the road, in a baby seat. She'd mislaid her house key, and needed to borrow my spare one. She was obviously a bit twitchy leaving her baby, so on the porch, between us we quickly identified and jiggled the spare key out from my keyring, and off she went.

I was wearing a favourite top, ambiguous but hard to imagine it came off the men's rack, and some pu stretchy pretend leather leggings. My hair was in a long ponytail, but that's normal. I'd also been growing out my nails lately, so they were polished with clear glossy nail hardener, and with their current length give quite a good impression of french nails.

In theory, me being me, I should have been worrying 'did she spot anything? What if she did? Why didn't she say anything? Will she say anything later? Will she mention it to the godson?'

You know what? None of those concerns got to me. I realised that I didn't care. She might have been flustered enough not to notice anything about my appearance. Or I'll get a free pass probably because everyone knows I'm a bit unconventional. Or I'll get a few comments or questions, in which case, there you go, that's life, bring it on.

Hmm, quite a liberating feeling.

Marti x