This week I’ve been secretly looking forward to staying late at school for our night event. I kind of thought it might be nice. A little vacation. Ahh, A couple of hours between dismissal and the start of the event to chill. Hell, I may even clean off my desk. I’ll definitely order some Thai, write my slice…
Because I’m staying late, my husband is in charge of kid pick up. That’s really where the “night off” feeling comes from. I take a deep breath. Mentally lounge, hands behind head, Ahh, no “Mom, Can you tell me a story?” on the way home. No mystery for that crazy witch Belinda and her Governors Ct. Detectives. Just silence. I could almost feel the warm breeze in my mental picture of relaxation.
Then today came.
“Who’s the point person for this terrible thing that failed?” (me)
“They’re driving me crazy! I want to quit!” (not me)
“Squeeee squeee,” (also not me – raccoons trapped under the third grade trailer)
“Give me Belinda and her band of talking animals. I want out of here.” (me)