Ever have one of those days?
You wake up and from the time your feet hit the floor nothing goes right.
Yeah. Well I had a humdinger of a day yesterday.
I’ll spare you all of the details (you’re welcome) except the BIG one.
I went to pick up Tater Tot from Parents’ Day Out. I got there a few minutes early and parked at the curb. Parking at the curb saves me about 10 steps, and I’d rather clean than “exercise,” so there you go.
When I got to Tater Tot’s room, he was outside on the playground so I decided I would pack up his things before going outside and prying his little body off the slide. I noticed that there was a plastic sack in his cubby, and you know that only means one thing. He had to change his clothes at some point during the day. The teacher told me the reason, which was no big deal other than the fact that at lunch he crammed so much food in his mouth that he gagged and a lot of it came back out. Gross, I know.
When I went outside to set the inevitable fit in motion, I couldn’t spot the spare set of clothes that I’d packed. There was a really good reason for that. He wasn’t wearing his spare set of clothes. He was wearing someone else’s spare set. Apparently, the teacher who changed him grabbed the wrong backpack. Oh well. Could’ve been worse.
Since Tater Tot and one of his little friends had found a puddle outside to splash in, the bottom four inches of the jeans he was wearing were soaked. I coaxed him inside and put his spare set of clothes on him, wrapped the other set in a plastic bag and headed home to wash them.
I must have had some shortage of oxygen to my brain a few weeks ago, because when the PDO director called me and asked if I’d be in charge of one of the Teacher Appreciation functions I said, “OF COURSE I WILL AND THANK YOU SO MUCH OF THINKING OF ME!” Teacher Appreciation Week is next week and I had nary an idea of who had signed up to bring food for “my” day, so I stopped by the director’s office on the way out to find out if she had a list.
She did, indeed, have a list but she needed to make a copy for me. While she was off making a copy she had to take a phone call, so we waited about five minutes for her to come back.
Finally, a good 30 minutes after parking at the curb, Tater Tot and I left the building.
Guess whose car was THE ONLY ONE STILL PARKED AT THE CURB WHILE A 2-MILE LONG LINE OF TRAFFIC WENT AROUND IT?
Evidently, I missed the memo that told everyone NOT to park at the curb in the afternoon because that’s where the pre-school parents pick them up.
When we came out of the building, the traffic fellow, trying not to curse me into the ground, said, “Is that your Volvo?”
I turned 83 shades of red and said, “I’m so sorry,” about 18 times as I steered my toddler toward our car. We had to pass all of the preschoolers and their teachers on the way to our car, and all the while Tater Tot was saying, “There’s Mama’s car! There’s Mama’s car!”
I wanted to lie down in the stream of traffic and let a dozen or so cars just roll right over me.
I’m pretty sure that scene would’ve suited the last teacher in line just fine, because as I passed her she said to everyone around — and I’m not lying when I tell you that she shouted — “That’s the one who parked her car there! And I’ll bet she NEVER DOES IT AGAIN.” Then she turned and looked at me, as I was buckling Tater into his seat, and said, “WILL YOU?” And she was not asking. She was telling.
I didn’t want to have parking lot detention in HER room, so I said, “No, I’ll park across the street from now on.”
As I was pulling away from the curb, the teacher next to Miss Meanie waved a tiny little wave and mouthed, “It’s okay,” and I kept saying (out loud!) how sorry I was. So much so that Tater Tot was back there waving and saying, “I sorry, too!”
I’m thinking of dying my hair and buying a new car before Tater Tot’s next day at PDO.
How do you think I’d look as a blonde?