Playing Dress-up

Standing before the mirror and playing
Dress-up, all the while silently praying
For no interruptions from my spouse and son
They are in the family room playing games, having fun
While this is my guilty pleasure, where I try
Every permutation and combination under the sky
Of pieces in my wardrobe, jewelry in my closet
This silly drill calms me down when I am upset
In front of the mirror I feel like a little girl all over
Again, rummaging through mom’s dresser
Surreptitiously looking for adornments forbidden
Cosmetics, lipsticks, jewelry, hair ornaments
The prospect of getting caught gave it a sense
Of adventure, being like mom was my favorite pretense
I’ve grown up and now have my own dresser
Reflective of my style, full of things I prefer
Yet the silly pastime of dressing up for no one but me
Has not lost its charm, though I do feel guilty
Thinking of everything else I could do
Run other errands, be involved in pursuit
Of activities more creative, productive or intellectual
In managing my time, I am being ineffectual
Just one more outfit, one more combination
I tell myself repeatedly, then I am done
But playing dress-up has irresistible appeal
So I keep going on, with unparalleled zeal
Until the inevitable happens and I have to run
Downstairs to deal with an inconvenient situation
(The kind that is common with young kids around,
Where spills, broken toys, and tantrums abound)
And I try to tackle the issue; quite inappropriately
Dressed for the occasion in cocktail attire and jewelry
To my frivolous pastime, this marks the end
From my personal heaven to drab reality I descend.