Mar 192012

My husband usually calls on the way home from work and asks if I need anything from the grocery store. 95% of the time I try to say no, as I understand he’s tired and would love to arrive home sooner, than later. But not this day. It had been on of those “Crazy, Can’t Take it Anymore” kind of days that only God and chocolate could fix.

It started at 6:30am when the kids came running down the stairs like a herd of cattle, with one hollering “Mom, I’m in a skit today and need a trench coat.” Uh, as in right now, you couldn’t have told me this, YESTERday?

One kid left his lunch box 3 days in a row on the kitchen counter and the other came home with a note that he spent $20 on chocolate milk and owes the cafeteria $1.38. What? Is that possible?

One forgot to turn-in his homework and the other forgot his book report. I read their class journals and discovered notes the teacher’s had written: one slept in class and two couldn’t stop talking. I think I passed along the talking gene. Perhaps it’s not really their fault.

As I picked them up from the bus stop, the kindergartener said a curse word he heard at school, in front of all the neighbors. That’s when you feel like you’ve failed as a parent. Dear God, what else can go wrong? I shouldn’t have asked. At that moment, I get a call from the neighbor, that our dog is in their yard. As we pull along the street and get out of the car, my 8 year old opens the minivan door and hollers: Mom, where do baby comes from?

As I ring the door bell, I hollered across the lawn: from your belly, now get back in the car. As the lady is introducing herself to me (and the door is closing on his face), he yells: No, mom, my friend say they come from down H-E-R-E. Cue the “Look of Death” cause that’s what I gave him. It must be their mission to embarrass us to death. I threw the muddy dog into our newly detailed car, dropped off one child at a friends, put the dog in the house and headed back across town to drop off yet another kid at Art class.

As I’m unloading 2 more kids at Home Depot, (wait, how many kids is that), to buy more Electric Fence line, I noticed a missed call from a neighbor saying: We have your dog. Seriously? Is this an old voice-mail? Can it be, that my dog is a magician and escaped our house, again?

Turns out, the kids left the back door open. Nice. So here we go, back across town to pick up the dog at a house that has already called us once before. I felt like I owed the neighborhood an apology. Do you ever have one of those days? If not, you should be feeling pretty good about yourself, right now. I’m sure our neighbors are dreaming of seeing a “For Sale Sign” on our lawn one day. They are probably thinking we’ve met our maximum capacity for kids, dogs, gerbils and skateboards left on the cul-de-sac.

So here’s to spouses willing to stop by the grocery store on the way home from work – and having days, that no matter how bad they become, you know God and chocolate are on your side.

Here’s to living the Best Version of You.

 Posted by at 8:41 pm

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