This morning both kids started wailing as soon as I buckled them into their car seats. Deaglan sobbed that he had a hole in his finger - needed a bandage right then while Naveen expressed his overall dismay with life by screeching at the top of his lungs. I’d already been experiencing what could only be described as the early onset of menopause – I’m sure there’s a technical term for it but it can best be explained with these two words – hot flash. And when I unloaded the kids for the first drop-off at Deaglan’s school, I made a crucial discovery.
My pantyhose were all wrong.
By the time I arrived at the daycare, sweating and irritated, my tights which were clearly sized for an eight year old, were just about around my ankles which is coincidental because so was my crying baby. He would not let me back-step out of there, would not be comforted by anyone but me.
And it was precisely then, that I realized he was missing a shoe.
I could have cried at the thought of retracing my steps – it was only 7:45 AM and I was ready to surrender. Thank goodness the other shoe was in the van but at my parking spot when it occurred to me that my parking pass was still in Shaune’s car- I drive it on Fridays so he can ferry the kids around- I did raise the white flag.
I’d love to tell you that it got better from there but in typical Monday fashion, its tiny pinpricks of annoyance continued to nick me.
No wonder they wrote a song about it.
