My daughter’s school is a 15-minute drive from our home. (Okay, it SHOULD be a 15-minute drive from our home.) So every now and then (read: at least once a week) she eats breakfast on the way. Today was one of those days, and to be honest, I had even planned it that way. Here’s what I didn’t plan for:
The morning started off just fine. We were doing great. She was dressed. She was ready….
I was not.
Then the baby started crying, and it was all downhill from there.
I managed to get them both into the car at 8:10. (Yes, school starts at 8:00.) We were well on our way, and I was about to take a deep breath and relax when a small voice from the backseat said….
“Mom, you forgot to give me my breakfast.”
Yes, oh yes, I did.
I knew what her breakfast was. I knew where her breakfast was. And, late as we were, I knew I had to turn around and go get it. Did I mention we were running really late? Did I mention that it’s a 15-minute drive to her school? And, did I mention that she waited until we were almost halfway there to remind me?
So, if it makes you feel any better today, I was the wet-headed, no make-up-on mom wearing the inside-out shirt (yes, you read that right) pushing my daughter into her classroom at 8:30 this morning. And, I’ll be the (hopefully) hair-brushed, wearing-at-least-a-little-lip-gloss mom apologizing profusely to her teacher this afternoon. Good times.