This morning I woke Noah up with shrieks of SCHOOL BUS! SCHOOL BUS! He quickly joined in -- spring break was over! Finally! No sense in hiding our mutual joy! Quick! Get up, get dressed! You can wear shorts! What, no socks? SURE WHY NOT, Mommy's feeling all sorts of permissive and giddy today! The SCHOOL BUS is a'coming!
We ate breakfast and assumed our spots by the window and waited. And waited. I tweeted a couple times, because clearly, this was some riveting action. You guys ever wondered what it's like to wait for a school bus? Follow me for a truly gritty, realistic experience. I'm like the Michael Bay of Twitter.
SPOILER ALERT: The bus was late. Creeping into "not coming" territory. This wouldn't be the first time that's happened -- it's a preschool-dedicated route and the driver has gotten confused around half-days and holidays before. But unlike those times, when I generally shrugged and let Noah enjoy an impromptu morning off, I was NOT GOING TO TAKE IT. NO. Come hell or high water, I was going to somehow find a way to get Noah to school, even if it meant putting them in the car and driving SEVEN WHOLE MINUTES (eight if I hit that one red light!) to school MYSELF.
Ezra and I were still in pajamas, but no matter! Noah's education is more important than my vanity. Also: OH MY GOD, WE ARE ALL SO BORED. I got the boys out to the car and buckled them in before I realized I'd left my cell phone behind. I figured I better get it in case the school called to wonder why Noah was late.
I dashed back in and found it underneath a pile of papers I'd pulled out of Noah's backpack earlier. The paper on top was an extra copy of the school calendar.
Humorous trumpet of dumbassity: WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAH.
The thing is, this calendar is no different than the one I have tacked up on our fridge. The one I've checked a good 40 times over the past week or so. There is absolutely no excuse other than MAYBE me getting Noah's two schools mixed up, but really: I just didn't know what day it was. My brain works off a more vague calendar, where it's perpetually April Something, Probably Earlyish In The Month, I Think, Or Maybe Middish, Wait, Did I Have My Period Yet?
So I went back out to the car and proceeded to rip Noah's heart out of his chest with my bare hands.
"STOP MAKING ME MAD!" he wailed. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU RIGHT NOW." Then he threw himself on the couch for awhile in heartbroken defeat.