Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Patience. wisdom, and screwdrivers.


So remember yesterday’s “you suckers” blog where I had nothing to talk about because my brain was empty? And how the soul suckers were pulling all the funny out of me? Well, the blog information bucket started getting filled back up today. It’s almost like praying to God for patience. You NEVER want to do that, because He will give you something that forces you to learn patience. He may not let you win the lottery, but you can bet that He’s got a butt load of things waiting in the wings to help build your patience. Ask for wisdom instead. Look how well wisdom worked for Solomon.

Six A.M. today, my eyes pop open and I ask my husband, who is taking his sweet time getting dressed for work, “Was today the day I needed to take the kids to school?” “Oh crap,” he says, “yes,” and he kicks it into high gear and leaves for a seven o’clock staff meeting. I switch from, “La, la, la, I’m going to work” to “gotta get dem babies ready fer skewl.” And for those of you who don’t know my daughter, she is in a completely different universe, with a totally different time continuum. She has no sense of urgency for anything. Ever. “Tanner Tot, if you hurry I will give you $1000.” Nothing. “Tanner Squanner, if you hurry, you can have 7 books at bedtime.” Nothing. I was fully prepared for her to drag it on as usual, but my son, the smart boy he is, pulled out the donut card. “Mom, if we hurry can we get donuts?” Well, that worked for her today. She got dressed quickly and brushed her teeth on her own in record speed. We were out the door at 20 till seven. As we pulled up to Shipleys, I remembered that part of my duty as dropping-the-kids-off-at-school-parent was to pack lunches and snacks. Dang, in the rush, Momma done forgot dat. My wonderful husband of 15 and half years usually has morning duty while I get to work and bring home half the bacon. The man cannot put double pony tails in my daughter’s hair to save his life, but he can pack a mean lunch for our son, Picky McPickiealot.

My plan was to drop the kids off, run to HEB, come back to school, drop off the goods and be on my way to work. I would be only about 20 minutes behind. In the drop off line at school, Tanner had to take extra long to go through her air hugs and kisses routine, which I then had to reciprocate. Heaven forbid, I did not do it exactly right the first time and had to redo the love ritual. Does it count if there was some angry inside my heart as I redid it? I finally made it to HEB and got the individual servings of applesauce that cost twice as much as the giant jar. Oh, it pained me to buy it. The Lunchable pained me even more. Lunchables make me feel like a bad parent. I did get the turkey and crackers, so did that make it better? Just pretend there is not 300% of the RDA for sodium in it. And since Austin does not have plastic bags anymore, my son got a twenty cent reusable shopping for his lunch box. Bam.

I got back to school and dropped everything off. As I was leaving, the Pledge of Allegiance started, so I felt as a good American I should stop to do it. I was lost during the Texas Pledge and the school pledge. I did know the school song, which ends with a nice coyote howl and coyote hand gesture. As I was leaving, my son’s teacher said, “I’m really glad that you signed up for the field trip next week. You are the only parent that did.” Hmm, I’m starting to second guess that decision. As I left the school, I realized I had to pee. Now that it was already 7:25 A.M., I knew that Austin traffic would be terrible on my way to work. I did not want to pee in my pants in the car, again. I decided to run home and take care of business as I was not in the mood for dirty gas station toilet. As I drove across the bridge next to my house, I felt that familiar thump thump when your tire is going flat. I parked on the street next to my house, knowing that it would be easier to change a tire there rather than on my hilled driveway. I emerged from the car, could hear the air hissing out of the tire, and I could see a screwdriver sticking straight out of the tire. Awesomely awesome. I called my boss to let her know I would be late, but she had not left for work yet and would “be there in 25 minutes.” During the 40 minutes that I waited, I rearranged the 100 pounds of newly placed mulch that had been shifted by the torrential rainfall yesterday. I was able to cover some of the bare spots and I wondered if the other 50 pounds of washed away mulch would be easily accessible if I lifted up the manhole cover next to the drainage slit thingy on the side of the street.  The boss finally showed, and forty minutes later, we made it to work.

Hey, but at least I have my health. Did I just say that? Really? How about I just ask for patience while I am at it. That’ll teach me not to just go ahead and pee in my pants. Serves me right.

1 comment:

  1. Love it! You alwaya knew how to tell a great story! Keep it up! You need to write about growing up in mason
    ..that would be hilarious!!

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