On the drive home I had a strange inkling that the start time was actually 8:00am. I know it sounds so inhumane being on a Saturday especially right after a snow storm. Dylan and I drove home with our heads hanging low. Okay he was happy; I was having that sick deep rooted feeling in the pit of my stomach. That feeling attached to the little voice in my head that tells me that I am a terrible mother. I mean how hard is it to drive your kid 2 miles across town on time. Now we had missed the meeting, the meeting that is led by my neighbor. I knew that we had to be on time this week if not then I would be humiliated and have to avoid my neighbor for the duration of my kid’s childhoods. Dave would have to take the kids Trick or Treating.
Last night we prepared. We laid out his clothes coat boots hats and gloves. I laid out my own clothes. I tried my best to go to bed early. This week is even going to be harder because we had a real blizzard during the week. Now my driveway is adorned with mounds of snow taller than me. I deice the drive way, I shovel the extra debris left by the evil town plow. I do everything in my power to insure that we can wake up and go. I did everything but set the alarm clock.
This morning my husband sits up in bed and yells “8:10! It’s 8:10!” I groan. Why is he yelling in his sleep again? I turn over and pull the covers up tight. “Lydia! You’re late!” He yells and shakes me. I am so tired I am sure that I couldn’t move any of my body parts voluntarily even if I had the slighted urge to do so. I pull the covers over my head and settle back into a nice sleep. Then I dream about getting up and getting into the car with Dylan. Dylan? The car? It hits me in the face like a frozen snowball! I jump out of bed and run into Dylan’s room. I manage to get us both dressed teeth brushed and in the car by 8:25am. We get into our ice-covered car. Darn I lose 10 minutes heating up the car and deicing the windshield. We drive across town and park in front of the little red school house where they meet by 8:45am. Yes, I am a disgrace and a horrible mother. Yes, I got him here, but I am late again ! If you call missing almost the entire class late. Then I notice something strange. The window shades are pulled down and we are the only car here in sight.
“OH CRAP!” I think loudly.
“Mom, I think it’s not now.” Dylan says from the back seat. “Can we get donuts?”
“Yes.” I say without any hesitation.
“Really?” He asks.
“Yes.” I need coffee and I have to get out of here before anyone sees me. We drive off to Honey Dew Donuts. We go in and have a nice leisurely sugar blasting breakfast. Then we drive back to the school just in time to be greeted by a street full of moms and minivans. I wipe the chocolate off of Dylan’s face and send him on his way right on time.
