Daily Drama – Back and Forth
This Saturday, per usual, I had to round the little lad and rise my young lady early in the morn.
My son plays AM soccer, and depending on game time, immediately following I can just barely make it to my childhood hometown for my daughter’s Ballet Class. Both were in
fabulous horrendous moods, which is also typical for a Saturday morning. My daughter does not care to attend her brother’s games anymore, and he loaths watching the graceful girls pirouette during the 1.5 Ballet Class.
Ya so much fun for Mom cause you see Mr. Uncooperative doesn’t want to shop with me either. What he WANTS to do is visit his grandfather aka “Grandad” my Bad Ass Dad, who he states is Smart + Funny = Awesome, and knows lives right down the street from Ballet. Generally arranging such a visit is no problem.
The trouble is dear darling daughter had just shanghaied Bad Ass Grandad to watch her little brother the afternoon prior, so she could hang out with her friends. I was notified by my father at work he was heading over to my place as he had to “relieve her from duty” (umm nice). After all she does watch her little brother a whole 3 hours per week.
In any event, I thought perhaps Grandad may have had enough of my very active son for just now.
Hence, I did drag Mr. Uncooperative to the Grocery Store with me after dropping the Ballerina off, where he loudly moaned and groaned the ENTIRE time about how he could not wait to leave. Uh-huh. That is until we arrived back to dance, and he realized we still had about 45 minutes left for class to be let out.
Fortunately for Mr. Un-Coop, Mommy was so busy trying to manage the miserable sibs she forgot to drink her Arizona Blueberry Sugar-Free Iced Green Tea in the AM, and by 12:45PM was completely dragging ass. Let’s blame this one on the migraine meds. Why not? I do everything else. After all it DOES cause marked grogginess and confusion, which I am feeling ten-fold since the Doc increased my dosage a week ago.
Annd so, I discovered I could not park my mother-truckin truck. Ya. No. Not at all. I could not back this bitch in. I did try though, revving my Xterra Back and Forth in a valiant attempt to get backed between the yellow lines in the Dance School parking lot.
The good news?
My son was instantly entertained. He began shouting, taunting, and teasing me with, “This is hilarious…how long have you been driving now, like 30 years?” “What’s wrong with YOU, why can’t you park?” “Are you going to get a ticket for doing this?” Then he began gleefully counting my attempts, “1, 2, 3, 4…” I tried explaining to him I was too tired to park. He went on, “How can you be too tired, I told you to go to bed early last night!”
Although I well realized I should be disciplining my son for disrespecting me, all I could was hoot and howl, roaring with laughter at how absolutely ridiculous this was that I could not park! No word of a lie, it took me 30 minutes. Finally I was done, and my son advised, “Looks good on my side.”
He also added one last jab, “It took you 9 tries. How old were when you got your license?”