This morning, I woke up late, threw my hair in a ponytail and headed out the door for work with a piece of toast hanging out of my mouth.
Not 5 minutes ago, a colleague was in mid-conversation with the dean's secretary and says to me, "Is that a hickey or a curling iron burn?"
Insert stomach drop.
I can feel my face flushing as I say it's a flat-iron burn.
Everyone knows that's a lie.
Apparently, things are still sizzling over at our house. In case you were wondering. (as I'm sure you were.)
Excuse me while I crawl under my desk.