“Elizabeth, are you ready to go?” I hear Mother call from the kitchen.
“Yes, I’ll be right there,” I lie, still not dressed. It's Sunday and I'm late, as usual. I grab the first dress I see. It doesn’t seem to matter much when my choices are the black dress, the dark black dress, or the other black dress. Shall I wear the one with the hole, the one with two holes, or the one the mouse chewed through?
“Elizabeth! We are going to be late, we need to leave,” I hear Mother call again, this time with a hint of impatience.
“I’ll be right there!”
After exchanging my white nightdress for the dark black dress that the mouse chewed through, I tie a white apron around my waist, attempting to hide the hole. I am nearly out the door when I realize I have forgotten my cap.