It was 3:14 and I was trying to hurry out the door to pick up my oldest from pre-school by 3:30. I grabbed my two-year-old Ben, his bright orange scrubby brush-kitchen-utensil-toy (don't ask), and my purse, and started to head for the door. Wait, my keys! I looked all around for them. "Keys" Ben said knowingly. All of the sudden he exclaimed "THAT!" so excitedly that I almost dropped him. Nope, not the keys, just a sippy cup. So then I was holding Ben, the scrubby brush, my purse, and a sippy... but still no keys.
At 3:17 we had acquired a farm toy, and a burp cloth for me to wipe my son's faucet of a nose, but still no keys. At 3:19 I discovered my keys inside my purse *rolled eyes*, so then all of us went out to the car.
Getting buckled in was an entirely different matter. Ben had a death grip on the sippy in one hand and the scrubby brush in the other. Then he realized beneath the layers of clutter we had dragged into our SUV, that he's missing his beloved blankey. So, not wanting to miss a chance to exercise, I jogged back inside, grabbed the blankey, and jogged back to the car. I gave myself a mental high-five for getting some quality running in for the day. That should counter-act those cookies I had with lunch.
At 3:23 we were on the road. When I pulled into the school parking lot at 3:31 I quickly glanced around to see if a member of the Guiness Book of World Records had stopped by to congratulate me on my remarkable speed. When I didn't see them, I pulled Ben out of the car, scrubby brush in tow, and jogged toward the classroom door. Another high-five for me; that should count toward the soda I chugged earlier.
As we waited in line, I noticed another toddler with a blue kitchen utensil in her chubby fingers. I smiled and nodded politely to her mother, who in turn, smiled and nodded back, glancing at Ben's hands. "Ice pick" she informed me. "Scrubby brush" I replied. We nodded some more, and had a nice conversation about how the world should do away with toys and just give the children our expensive kitchen supplies, makeup, tools, etc., to play with. I made a mental note make a donation of toys to Goodwill the next day.
We greeted Jake with hugs and exclamations, and you wouldn't even believe how excited I was to learn that not only did he have pancakes at school, but lots of syrup to go with them! Just great, now he was going to be bouncing of the walls all afternoon. I thought about sending his teacher a new puppy as a thank you.
When we headed back outside we discovered it had started raining. Not sprinkles either, but big, soppy, waves of water wooshing down from the Heavens. "Hoods up, boys!" I exclaimed, noticing my flannel shirt was without a hood, and very thin. We made a run for it, back to the car, Ben giggling in my arms the entire way. I was glad one of us was enjoying it. But, hey, more running! That should take care of those waffles I had at breakfast. This new healthy lifestyle I've started has really been working out, I noted to myself.
When we got to the car, and I hurridly strapped the boys in, and was finally able to jump in to the driver's seat about ten minutes later. I glanced in the rearview mirror, and then slowly pried myself back again. My efforts of beauty from that morning were gone. I had spent twenty-five minutes in the bathroom spraying, smoothing and flat-ironing my hair to perfection, and then I had spent another ten minutes trying to make my face like Cindy Crawford's... all to have God laugh and say "Not today!" Puff ball was an understatement; my hair looked like I had stuck my finger in a light socket and enjoyed it so much that I went back for seconds. My mascara was running, my lips were chapped, and my bangs were plastered split down the middle of my forehead, glued to my face with rain-water.
Then, from the backseat Ben giggled and said, "Rain funny". I was so glad one of us thought this adventure was hilarious. As I pulled out of the lot, squinting through the heavy sheets of rain, Jake piped up, "Can we have more pancakes for dinner?" My reply: "It looks like seafood tonight, son."
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