It’s been one of those days.
I forgot to send in the permission slip for after-school pick-up. Around ten, I realize I’ve missed today’s deadline to send in an “action” photo for a first grade project. No worries. I can fix this.
I scribble out the slip and download a great picture of F. from last Saturday’s lacrosse game. I’ll drop them both at the school on the way to meet a friend for lunch. See? All fixed. Then the printer breaks. Ugh.
Plan B: I drop the slip at school and email the photo to F.’s teacher to print. Done.
The rest of the afternoon flies by, the last one before spring break. I’m throwing in laundry and working on my blog when I notice the time. And panic. What time is pick-up? I have a mental block and for the life of me can’t remember. Early on-set Alzheimers or over-stressed Motherhood?
I race to the school. Twenty minutes early.
“Here again?” the front secretaries ask.
“You won’t see me next week,” I answer. “Spring break!”
They cheer in unison. I’m hoping it’s for spring break.
I see a friend through the double glass doors removing kids’ art from the school entrance.
“Need help?” I ask.
“Thanks,” she looks up from pulling tape off the back of one picture. “I wanted to finish before the kids get out.”
“I have a few minutes.” I tell her. In fact, I’ve got twenty.