'I find the paper that reminded parents about Pajama Day, which was yesterday. Shoot! I look over at my son to see if I can spot any signs of damage that I’ve caused him. He's sitting at the table, unaffected by the repercussions of having me as a mother.'
“Oh, my God!” I leap out of bed and hit the ground running. We have to be out of the house in 20 minutes, and I have to make breakfast and be sure my son has all of his books, folders, lunch, and the papers that should have been signed yesterday. I put them down somewhere, and now I can’t find them. I do, however, find the paper that reminded parents about Pajama Day, which was yesterday. Shoot! I look over at my son to see if I can spot any signs of damage that I’ve caused the poor kid.
“Sure, honey, but this is a little last minute, don’t you think? You’ve known about this game all week, and you certainly could have washed your uniform yourself.” She lets out a sigh of disgust before snapping, “Yes, and I would have, but we are out of laundry detergent. I told you this two days ago, and you said you would take care of it!”
Sounds familiar. I study her facial expression-a mix of frustration and anxiety … and a hint of resentment, too? It’s too late for this one. The damage is done already. But I do intend on making it up to her. “Oh, right. And I will. Your uniform will be ready to go by the time you get home from school.” I kiss the top of her head as I grab Max and run to the car.I walk back into the house after dropping Max off and I’m greeted by the dirty cheer uniform on top of the washing machine.
Back to the car I go…but wait — I should take a quick look to see if we need anything else while I’m at the store. I open the refrigerator. We are almost out of milk, out of eggs, and the unopened carton of apple juice reminds me that it is our turn to bring juice boxes to the boys’ game tomorrow. Proud of myself for catching that before it was too late, I sprint to the drawer to grab a pen, so I can write down the items while they’re still in my head. No pen. I open the drawer next to that. Nope. Next drawer. Bingo! I start to write a list and realize that the pen has no ink left in the cartridge. I put the pen back in the drawer and add pens to the list that I am going to have to memorize. I jump in the shower and I’ll be on my way.
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