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Mother of the Year...Not |  |
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That being said, I would like a do-over for today. I tried to be good but it seemed like the fates were against me. Even though I waited over 30 minutes at the post office to mail three envelopes and had a backache for hours afterward as a result of standing in line while the window clerks took their sweet time getting their stuff ready and refrained from throttling any of them even after they sighed, “Next” like they had already been working half a day, I thought I had a good firm grasp on my temper. Even though my dogs were their usual disobedient selves on today’s walks and I ended up skidding on the slick pavement, sometimes for miles at a time, and had to change my underwear when I got back home and I did not kick any of them too awfully hard, I thought I was still in control. But when I went to pick up my children, my offspring, fruit of my womb, reason for living and loves of my life and even though they had been reminded of the orthodontist appointment a mere four hours beforehand when I had dropped them off at school and my daughter had forgotten and had to be pulled out of lunch and had to go to her locker to get her backpack and couldn’t get her homework binder because she had left it in the classroom that was locked with the teacher on break and I could see we were going to be late for an appointment that had been scheduled six weeks in advance, I will admit that I did lose it just a bit. I guess you could call it that. After all, I did not wrap my hands around her neck and swing her about like I wanted to and I did not apply my itchy hand to her little behind but merely screamed profanity outside of the principal’s office window and stormed off to the car while my blood pressure soared. That’s all. If I don’t get credit for all of the calories I pass up, I should at least get recognized for everything I don’t do when I explode. Having to be glared at by the orthodontist assistant because my daughter hadn’t brushed yet when she was called back and then when they tried to call my son, he was in the bathroom for a full 20 minutes doing God only knows what and then they tried calling my daughter again but she was in the bathroom and by the time she got out, all of the chairs were full, I kept cool. Even after the orthodontist called me out of the waiting room to scold me for my son’s poor brushing habits, I merely nodded and agreed while I seethed inside. And at the Dairy Queen, when they were thrown by my no-doubt exotic order of two shakes and a cone and it only took them four tries to get it right, I didn’t call anyone a moron. Within hearing distance. No, I just smiled and ground my teeth down to nubs and dove into the chocolate face first when I got home. Thank God for non-prescription pain relief. |
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