This morning I dropped The Goldfish off at school. Wait. Let me back up.
Last night, The Rev didn’t really sleep. At all. Until about 5:30 this morning, which was the time that I had intended to get up and go to the gym, but instead was a complete wreck and searching in vain for a pillow to hide under so that the sunlight from yon window was NOT beckoning me to get up anyway.
I got up, conveniently, at a quarter after six so I missed gym time. And then I felt really, really guilty.
So I dressed in those workout clothes after all and made a pact with my shoes to take them and the rest of my tired self to the gym at 9:30, right after The Goldfish drop off. (That’s the part where you yell, “THE DROP OFF!!” like Marlin in Finding Nemo. Go.)
(‘Cause it’s funny. You know, because my boy’s nickname is “The Goldfi…” Oh never mind.)
When we pulled up, all of the other superwonderfulawesome moms, and a lot of dads (they’re superawesomewonderful), were walking in with their children, slathered from head to foot in sunscreen, wearing cute/handsome hats, schlepping picnic blankets, carting younger siblings, and wearing their aviators like the studs they all are.
And I drove away.
I let my selfish guilt about going to the gym get the best of me and chose to go there instead of watching my Goldfish play all of those silly games. Ugh. Ugh. UGH.
I kicked myself up and down for the next two hours until I could get back there again. And somebody was in a crankpot mood when I did get there for our promised lunch.
Just shoot me now.
Thank goodness that The Rev got after him and pulled him out of that funk.
Yay for brotherly love. Especially when your mother is crap.
Then this one broke out the stinkeye on us. Oh just kick me to the curb…
I chased him until he made up with me.
Found him again, hiding out in what he and his buddies call “The Laboratory.” When I crawled under there and asked what they were inventing, they told me wholeheartedly and in unison, “WANDS!”
Harry Potter rules these parts right now.
This one kept sneaking away to play on the big kid playground.
He thought he could do whatever they could.
You know, like giving mothers heart attacks. They’re all very good at that.
He started making goofy faces. The best part was that he didn’t know I was watching. Pffft.
He was also watching.
She and I have the same haircut, but she rocks hers like a superstar while I just look like Steven Tyler. (In some strange way, then, I too am rocking it like a superstar.)
And just as a treat for me: a couple more of my favorite girls.
Tomorrow is their graduation. He’s already missing his friends.