The following story is based on real events, names have been omitted to protect the not so innocent. Here’s their story.
Thursday November 6th:
The door opened and chaos ensued, as I burst into the girls’ room screaming. “Kids get up quick, you’re gonna to be late for school!”
8:00 am – No coffee, little sleep. Husband hasn’t roused from his side of the bed, and the dog just peed on the floor.
8:05 am – Still no signs of life from the girls’ bedroom, I’ll have to resort to drastic measures.
8:08 am – I decided to use the loud music, and rattling of pots and pans approach. Now the girls are awake, albeit in tears, but the ends justify the means right?
8:15 am – Husband hasn’t woken up. I check to see if he’s still breathing –glad to report that he is. I blast him with music too.
8:20 am – On my way to the kitchen, I notice the cat is dead in the litter box. Middle child sees this, and begins to shriek like a banshee. Calgon, take me away!
8:30 am – Toast in the toaster, OJ in the glasses, the phone rings. Shit! It’s Gwen she’s in charge of the mom’s carpool group. She tells me I’m late. In my mind I’m thinking ‘no fucking kidding.’ Unfortunately I say to her, “No fucking kidding.” She tells me that I’m no longer part of the carpool group.
8:37 am – Thick black smoke is wafting in from the kitchen, I rush in to find that the toaster had cooked the bread into crispy pieces of charcoal. The smoke alarm starts to wail, and the youngest child begins to cry. Shoot me now!
8:40 am – Cereal it is then. But the kids are demanding toast. “Here!” I bark at them, shoving the plate of burnt bread in front of them. They’re okay with cereal.
8:45 am – Husband manages to get up, shower, and get dressed before the kids and I do. Says he’ll catch a bite to eat on the way to work. Abandons me with the lunatics. I’ll remember his treachery.
8:50 am – Middle child is in the fetal position next to the recently deceased cat. She won’t eat breakfast. Shoot me now –Please!
9:00 am – School started fifteen minutes ago, the kids still aren’t dressed. The cat is still dead.
9:25 am – I round up the tiny insurgents into the van. I left the lights on again…again…not again! Mr. Martini from next door is kind enough to give me a jump. He moves like a man retired for several years -I grin and bear it.
9:45 am – Finally, we make it to school, and rush to the eldest daughter’s class. Her teacher brags to me that her kids wake up on their own. I hold back the urge to grab her by the throat and squeeze until her head pops. Instead I smile; at least that’s what I tried to do. She looks terrified –guess I didn’t smile after all.
9:52 am – I drag my middle child into class, she’s still heartbroken about the dead kitty. “Tough morning huh?” her teacher says. I smile, or grimace, at this point, I didn’t care which. I guess I grimaced because the teacher nervously waited for me to leave.
9:55 am – More than an hour late to the little one’s class. The kids are squealing in notes at least 8 octaves above middle C. Her teacher gives me a sideways glance, and whispers “It’s important to get your little one here on time.” Really? I give her the evil eye, she backs away. I kiss my kid goodbye, and give the teacher one more menacing glance just for good measure.
10:00 am – Back in the van, I lay my head on the steering wheel. The Nazi parking lot attendant taps on my window. “Move along ma’am, no unauthorized vehicles allowed on school grounds unless dropping off, or picking up a child.” Mentally I’m trying to make her head explode. “Alright!” I yell at her. I turn the key and…the car won’t start. I begin to laugh hysterically, the lot attendant looks worried.
10:30 am – The police were quite nice, they didn’t even ticket me. The school however, was less forgiving. They asked that the kids’ father drop them off for the foreseeable future.