This was definitely NOT me this morning.
It’s time. Time for a rant, that is. Not because I feel any kind of huge need to vent or anything, but because I need some kind of vindication. Surely I can’t be the only woman out there who deals with all of this crap. Surely my kids can’t be disorganized, dishonest, screwed-up minions yet, right?
I really hope not. But if they are and I am – I need to know this stuff now. So I’m venting. And ranting.
See, here’s the deal. One thing I LOVE about my job is that I get a pretty hefty amount of time in the morning to spend with the minions before we all have to be out the door. Their school starts later than others in the district and I’m not on the clock until 9. So it should be a win-win, right?
You’d think so. In a perfect world. Unfortunately my world is far from perfect.
Case in point – this morning. Minion #1 is (finally) finished with the multiple days of standardized testing hell. That means that today is the first day this week that the kid is actually allowed to bring his backpack, binder and other crap to school. That’s right, folks. In the Great State of Texas, kids can’t bring ANYTHING to school on testing days. Apparently the geniuses in Austin think that an eight- or ten-year-old would try and cheat on the almighty STAAR. Ridiculous, but be that as it may. What that meant for us this morning is that – after four days of sitting idle – the backpack and binder actually needed to be organized. Which shouldn’t have been a problem. I mean, really, if you just leave something alone, it doesn’t change. Right?
Wrong. Apparently that backpack unpacked itself. I asked Minion #1 to get his stuff together – in plenty of time, mind you – before he started playing, reading, and whatever else he does with morning free time. And did he?
No, of course not. So, when I gave the five minute warning, up he came running to me – an envelope in hand and a panicked look on his face. The fundraiser envelope was due today and he was going to get in trouble for not returning it with my pledge money inside. I calmly explained that I’d paid online – only to get a panicked story about how the teacher was going to be mad if I didn’t fill out the envelope form TODAY. I soothed the guy by promising to email the teacher a screen shot of the online payment. Problem solved, right?
Wrong. Then the kid tells me his house key is missing. He knows EXACTLY where it is, though. Of course it isn’t there. Or anywhere else. I drafted Minion #2 into helping look for it – only his level of focus is about the same as the dog’s in the movie Up. Nonexistent, especially looking for something important with a tight deadline. So I proceeded to tear around the house looking for that stinkin’ key. It HAD to be somewhere, since the minions had obviously gotten in the house the day before. Granted, they’re only home about ten minutes before the Spouse on any given day – but it’s a safety thing.
Key issue resolved, only in checking the couch cushions for the missing key (at this point only five minutes LATE leaving the house, of course) I noticed that Gambit – my mentally-challenged cat – has sunk to a new low and left us a surprise ON TOP OF all the tin foil and plastic bags protecting the couch. You gotta hand it to him – the guy is determined.
Feline cleanup in record time, and out the door, right?
Wrong. Minion #2 is still wandering around looking for a sock.
We made it, less than ten minutes later than usual. Glad I showered – by that point I’d worked up a sweat… And no less than three kindly drivers were nice enough to honk at me before I got halfway to work. I’m so glad they could tell I was a bit distracted.
Sigh. Is it just me, or should it be about six PM right now??