Another Therapy Bullet Point
Yesterday afternoon, I forgot to pick up the kids at school. You heard me right. I flat out forgot to pick them up.
What with the school holiday on Monday, and Valentine's Day on Tuesday, it seems that I was completely unaware that yesterday was Wednesday, and both kids get out at 1:20, instead of the usual 2:30. Yep, my kids sat in the office, probably bickering and pouting until I laller laller lallered my sorry hide onto the campus at 2:00. I muttered something about cold medicine* making me lose track of time to the office ladies, and peppered my children with kisses and stammered apologies all the way out to the van.
See, I spent the morning gleefully tossing things into the dumpster I ordered to do yet another clean-out** of the garage and yard. My allergies were in full snot and headachy glory and I took a little sudafed to keep myself from dissolving into a heap of mucus. Let the dragging-butt begin.
By noon, I was in a stupor, and settled down to watch a little Nick Jr. Sudafed makes my lips feel like they are inflated, and I gave myself a nasty case of cotton mouth while I snored, giant-feeling lips carp-like, drowsing in and out of sleep with my three-year-old scrambling over my lap.
At 1:20, I should have been fetching my kids. Instead, I was making a cup of coffee in my kitchen, and pondering how to spend my last hour before picking up the kids. Which would have been fine, if it was any day but Wednesday.
At 1:45, I made a little pile of things to take to the school, in case I saw my friend there. I thought I'd call her to see if she was home, and then as I looked at the clock, calculating whether she would be at the park or not, it hit me.
Wednesday. It was Wednesday and I was LATE and my kids were sitting somewhere, maybe crying, definitely angry, waiting on ME, and I totally forgot and the school hadn't called me to see if I was coming (which was good) but what if that meant that the kids weren't in the office and they were wandering around (which would be very very bad) and I fuh-reaked out and grabbed my youngest under one arm and raced to the van.
As the van door slid open, the dog took advantage of my frantic state to leap into the van and start barking like a loon. After a few failed grabs at her collar, I threw up my hands and shut the door. To the sound of my dog's hysterical barks and my toddler's whining about having to leave when Blue's Clues was on, I drove to the school. Screeching to a halt in the bus circle, I leapt out of the van. I managed to unbuckle my youngest with one hand while restraining the dog with the other. I closed the door and sprinted with my three-year-old slung on my hip to the office, where my two children greeting me with baleful glares.
From the office, I could hear my dog barking her fool head off in the van. Yeah.
We headed home, me apologizing over and over and over in the front seat, and my children shooting me daggers everytime our eyes met in the rearview mirror. I gave them giant bowls of ice cream, and apologized some more. My son forgave me right away, but my daughter is still angry. I abandoned her. I forgot, and I'm flawed and I can just stuff my apologies into my pants and do a silly dance because she is holding a major grudge.
I've decided that she's entitled to hold her grudge as long as she wants. And I've also decided that I will double check the calendar every day. Also, I'm going to start working on my apologies-in-the-pants dance. Which is pretty stinking funny, if you ask me.****
*The office ladies probably think I have a drug problem, I mean, come on. Who FORGETS to pick up their kids because of antihistimines? Besides me, I mean.
** Who in the world can fill entire dumpsters less than two months apart? Clearly, we are destructive packrats who accumulate material objects and trash them with abandon, creating a wealth of rubble. I am slightly horrified. But I also love having a dumpster to threaten the kids with.***
***No, I don't threaten to throw the kids away. I threaten to throw their stuff away if they don't pick it up.
****Maybe it's not that funny, but the Afrin makes it seem that way. Woooo!