What's that smell? Oh, it's me.

I had to make a quick return at Carter’s today.  Rather than dealing with his stroller, I just carried Jack, who was still in his 2 o’clock feeding food coma, into the store.   Right as I had to sign for the return, he woke up and then promptly proceeded to spit up.  Right on my shoulder.   Pleasant.  The girl doing the return (who worn entirely too much blush) was so polite as she asked me if I wanted to use the restroom to clean up.   But that’s the thing about spit up.  Once it’s on you, the scent stays until you wash the clothes and yourself.  Of course, I attempted to clean it up, but you could still smell it.  Well, I still had errands to run and by golly, it took me all week to make my way out of the house and my errands were going to get done!  I needed to go to Target.  But did I really want to go in there smelling like spit up with a big stain on my shoulder? So I decided to go to Wal-mart instead.  Even with the smell and the stain, I still smelled and looked better than half the people in there.