Fake & Bake

My 24 year old Nanny, 'Nan', showed up on Thursday with a tan (rhyme unintentional, but I like it). It was 40 degrees outside and overcast so I knew that bronze wasn't from the sky. When I commented on the tan, she confessed to going to a tanning booth in preparation for her Big 25th Birthday the next day (I successfully fought my urge to lecture her on melanoma risk - it wasn't easy).

Nan was also going for a manicure, pedicure and to get her hair done after watching my daughter. It turns out that she and her friends had rented a limo for the Birthday Extravaganza. I figured they were going into the city for a show, but it turns out they were going into the next town over to a sports bar called The Big Bear Saloon. This gave me pause.

I've been to this particular sports bar on many occasions. It is the kind of place that has a flat screen tv in every square foot and a video game next to the front door called 'Deer Hunter'. This sports bar serves 47 kinds of beer and boasts chicken wing salad as the 'healthy choice' on the menu.

When I go to this bar, I sometimes prepare by rolling on deodorant. Sometimes.

Post-baby, I prepare for a trip to this Saloon by wiping the baby formula off my shoulder and repurposing it as a volume booster with a sweep through my hair . I certainly do not tan, mani, pedi, and style. In fact, when DO I tan, mani, pedi and style? The answer is: never.

My last lavish event was a friend's swanky wedding in Newport this August. For this major event I did shave my legs, shower, and apply make-up. I'm fairly sure this is as far as I would take it for a trip to meet Obama at the White House.

Does this mean that I care nothing about my appearance? Actually, I don't think so. But in the post-baby era, I can tell you that I can shower, dry my hair, clothe myself and whistle Dixie while cajoling my crying baby in her cradle in approximately 12 minutes. I've applied for the Winter Olympics but have been told that this event has not yet received full committee approval.