To be fair, the reason I remember is because of the all caps SCREAMING at me from the family calendar. PICTURE DAY!!! I’ve written. In bold. With three exclamation marks.
We arrive at the pool on time, in our team suit. I pull the completed order form from F.’s swim team folder and search for a pen to write a check. I’m enjoying the brief and unexpected calm of being on top of it. What a novel and wonderful feeling.
“Shoot. I knew I forgot something,” my friend says. She pats her pockets for dollar bills before rummaging through her purse for a checkbook. “I don’t have any money.”
“I do,” I scribble out a check for her before she can object. “What do you need?”
“I’ll get you the money tomorrow.” I never doubt it for a minute.
We hurry over to the kids who are lining up near the diving board. The photographer cajoles this one over an inch and tells another to stop making a face. My friend checks her watch. She’s got to be at work.
“I’ll get the girls the forms. Go,” I say.
I’m a stay-at-home mom who spends everyday at the pool. Where else am I going to be?
“Really,” I laugh. “Go.” She hands me the form and rushes out.
“On three,” the photographer yells. “Big smiles!” The kids grin for the camera. F. makes a face. At least he captures my child’s true self.
Done, the kids scamper back to their towels to grab goggles for practice and nearly take out an arriving mom.
“Oh,” she says, wearing a look I’m familiar with. “It’s picture day?”