Afternoon commute

I know it’s ten minutes past the optimal time for closing up the computer and packing my belongings to leave from work, but just one more email and one more quick jotted-down note for a Post-It and then I’m leaving, swear. If I don’t remember to grab those little bite-sized Snickers out of the office candy bowl today the kids are gonna give me The Face. You know—that hang-dog expression that says, “I endured this whole day, woman, and you bring me no treats? No spoils for my elementary school/daycare toil? I am questioning your very love at this moment.”

Shoot. It’s probably going to cost me five extra minutes on the downtown connector, but if I don’t pee before I leave, we’ll have to get two new cars instead of only the one.

I am not sure why I look in this mirror before spending 45 minutes on the freeway. Who do I think is going to see me? Well, the nine cops stationed every 37 feet down 75 south, actually. Yes. I think I’ll just put on a little lip gloss.

This purse is big enough to fit a family of lemurs in it and as a result I have been standing here next to my flower-sperm covered car for four solid minutes looking for my keys and—oh, there they are, RIGHT ON TOP. Ooh, gum!

Yeah, I’m in a Subaru Forester with a floral car seat and crust-covered orange colored booster seat in the back blasting The Blackeyed Peas. What? I will jam to what I please, Mr. Infiniti IPL G Coupe. Perhaps you will enjoy this Cee-Lo song that I’ve just turned up to volume 11. Here, let me roll down my windows so we can sing along together. You take back up.

Caaaaaaaaaaaaaars everywhere all over the place. Cars. Car. s. OMG.

Hey Dodge Caravan, you should lend some of that 10-minute blinker action to your buddy Dodge Ram over there. He apparently doesn’t have one. Or a rearview mirror.

That is a bag of shoes strewn all over the interstate. Hey, baby Chucks! Aww. Wow. That is a lot of shoes.

Shoe.

Shoe.

Awesome, the traffic through the connector is flying.

Shoe.

Pick up Noah first, or pick up Rosie first? Noah could help me get dinner at the grocery store and then we could go get Rosie. Or I could pick up Noah and Rosie and then hit the grocery store, so we could go straight home with the food. Yeah! It will be great—Rosie can ride in the cart and chat with me while Noah helps me load things in, and then I’ll let them pick out one treat at the checkout line for being so good and then they’ll be happy and fun all the way home. Maybe I’ll even let them help me cook, them standing atop their little stools and stirring our nutritious meal while I sing songs and we all laugh together, me with my apron and them with their big wooden spoons.

Right. So grocery store, then Rosie, then Noah. That’s gonna be the best bet for sure.

Don’t you people grocery shop any other time of the day/week? What happened to weekend food planning? GET IT TOGETHER, PEOPLE OF WALMART. Oh, shit, diapers. (Pun emphatically intended.) I am going to have to get out of this line and truck it to the back of the store with this giant basket of food for diapers, aren’t I. Welp.

Walking through the parking lot with a rotisserie chicken and a giant box of Pampers. Step back, fellas!

Well, this daycare smells like diarrhea. Straight up. THERE’S MY GIRL! HI! HI! HI!

Yes, I came to get you! Yes, I brought you a treat. No, I don’t have milk. Because I just don’t have any. We’ll get some when we’re back home. It’s ok! Look at this treat I brought you! It has chocolate! And nuts! And … filling! Rosie. Please stop crying. Rosie, I’m not going to go until you stop making that noise. We’ll get milk when we’re home! I promise. I know you want it right now, but I just don’t have any. HEY HOWS ABOUT SOME NICE MUSIC ON THE RADIO. Ok, ok, it’s off. It’s off! What are you saying? I can’t understand you when you’re talking like that. You want me to sing? You want me to sing … Jingle Bells? Urrgh, Rosie, Mama’s so tired, and I just … OK OK Jingle bells jingle bells jingle all the waaaaay …

Ok, let’s go in and get Noah! Rosie, why did you take your shoes off? Let’s put them back on. Mmmph. Mrrrph. Ugh. These shoes are too small for you. Ok, NOW let’s go get Noah.

THERE’S MY BOY! HI! HI! HI! Oh, sorry. Hey, buddy. How’s it going? I know, I know, no more kisses in public. Are those your friends? Yes, I did bring you a snack. I know, RIGHT? Best mom ever! Seriously, I’m number one, aren’t I. What do you mean number TWO? Oh. God is number one. Right. Well, I’m totally next after God then.

What are we having for dinner? Well, let me tell you what! It’s going to be the BEST. I got some corn, and some yummy rolls, and some CHICKEN. Rotisserie chicken! It’s still warm, so we can eat it right when we get home! Isn’t that awesome? Who’s excited?

What do you mean yuck. No, Rosie, the car is not stinky. It’s just the chicken. No! It smells nice! You like it! I swear you guys, you’re going to like it! We having a rotisserie chicken for our dinner. AND WE ARE ALL GOING TO LIKE IT.

Now let’s get in the house and start that homework. Rosie, get your finger out of your nose.

4 comments

1 Leigh Ann Laney { 03.30.11 at 7:38 am }

And this post is EXACTLY why I love your blog so much! It’s good to know that the insanity of my daily, mundane life is shared by every other mom!

2 Morgan { 03.30.11 at 10:09 am }

You are hysterical. I often have the run to the grocery store now or chance it with Stockton debate as well. Hope the chicken was yummy!

3 Sam { 03.30.11 at 11:08 am }

I just caught up on my Yestertime reading. And might I say, I heart your blog! You crack me up!!!

4 Elissa { 03.30.11 at 7:41 pm }

I loved this post. Even though the first half isn’t my life at all and the second half is how I feel like I live every minute, I was glued to it from start to finish. Thanks for giving me that very enjoyable couple of minutes!

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