Well, I had an interesting experience last week. It was one of those hazy summer days where we didn't really have anything that had to be done. Our city is starting school on August 9th (sniff) so I decided it was as good a day as any to start back-to-school shopping. So, pajamas are stripped off, clothes put on, teeth brushed (2 out of 3 anyway), shoes located and children pushed out the door while I grab my purse, refresh my coffee and furiously look for my sunglasses (which were sitting on top of my head).
Then, I close the door behind me, chase Meatball out of the front seat, where she's been happily pushing buttons, referee annother argument over whose turn it is to sit in the captain's chair and get the car started. I'm a little sweaty at this point, which, had I been more caffeinated, might have served as a warning but, since I didn't have my brain fully fed, I couldn't hear it humming, "If you're sweating before you leave the house, you may want to rethink this impromptu outing!"
We're off. We're going to the store with a long shopping list but there are only three things on that list that we must have: milk, eggs and salsa. So, along with school supplies, we should be able to get those three things. Well, about halfway through the store, I feel that ball of anxiety growing at the base of my ribcage that always arises when my three little 'goats' go to the store. I hear myself saying with growing intensity, "Please, wait for me. Come back here, please. Put that back, please. No, it says large pink erasers that cost $0.50 a piece, not a $5.00 eraser covered in plastic. Meatball, you MAY NOT play with scissors and by the way, why on earth are scissors being merchandised on the lower shelves! Did you get the yellow folders? No, it says yellow, I know your favorite color is blue, but the sheet says yellow. Excuse me, Mam, that's my child throwing things in your cart by mistake. Where is Meatball? All right, good-bye, I'm leaving you."
Finally, I herd my goats to the cash register. We pay for new backpacks, half of the items on the first grade supply list, Pokemon cards, napkins, bandages and toothbrushes with various licensed characters, a jar of salsa and two lollipops with rubber fans on top. (The two lollipops were scanned and then thrown in the trash can. Why, you ask? Well, when you find one on the shelf that has been previously opened and you start sucking on it while I'm not looking, you a) have to pay for it out of your own allowance, b) have to throw it in the trash right away and c)wait it out to see if you develop some sort of disgusting lip fungus. And, when little sister sees you enjoying one and automatically pulls one open, you have to pay for that one too and throw it away while she's distracted by some other shiny object.)
By this time, I'm frazzled and I'm sweating, I still don't have milk or eggs and I just need to get the heck home. However, I'm starving and I figure I'll run through the drive-thru and grab something greasy to make myself feel better. And, on the way to the drive-thru, I'll swing through the carwash because it's been months since I've had my mom-mobile cleaned.
The reason it's been months is that Meatball is scared of the carwash. But, it's been awhile so I figure maybe she's outgrown it. Nope, the moment I pull into the line, the whimpering begins and by the time I'm paying for it, there's screaming, convulsing and enormous tears. So, I reach around and unbuckle her carseat, thinking she'll sit on my lap as she's done in the past. Nope, she races to the back to be comforted by Sharkbait (which is overall more cute than hurtful). So, I take 2 minutes to chill.
As we're heading into the dryer, she decides she should sit in my lap and as I turn around to pick her up, I notice that my seat is wet. And at that moment, everything slowed down. It was as if, I couldn't quite process what was happening. Wait a minute?...water from the roof?...I slid open the cover and as the rush of water hit my face, I finally grasp what has happened..."I chased Meatball out of the front seat where she had been happily punching buttons..." With my mouth hanging open and beads of moisture soaking my clothes, I stare wide-eyed at this tiny creature cowering in my lap who, once again has brought me to my knees. She, in turn, looks up at me and say, "Mommy, you got me all wet."