the one with her adorable grand-daughter who is always in pretty pink dresses with shoes that match:
I’m sorry I’m always so short worded. I just have no idea what to say.
I’m always disheveled, clean but scruffy, my hair is at best utilitarian and my girls are naturally lovely but dressed like a blind man grabbed stuff at random; you are perfectly coifed and your grandaughter is smooth and polished.
You are ALWAYS on time, your granddaughter is quiet- either adoring or snuggling against you, never yelling. My girls alternate between yelling, commenting and “singing.”
You know all the words without having to read the book—I’m a half-beat behind the chorus.
You’ve got a half dozen conversation starters—the best I can do is respond like someone who’s only half awake. Sure, I am only half awake, with the baby and all, but I hate being rude. I just have no idea what to say, even while I agree our Parish community is awesome.
I wish I knew how to respond to the overtures you’ve made—I always end up with a horrible case of shoulda-saids. A half hour later, I know what I should’ve said to keep the conversation going.