Monday, November 15, 2010

Still life in the front hall

Lately, in the mornings, our usual morning rush has added a new step. I'll say something like, "come on, girls, I'm ready to put your brother in the car. I'm going to get my keys. You get your shoes. Let's go, okay?"

L will say, and I need MY keys! She'll grab the stool out of the bathroom to reach them from the hook where she hung her keys alongside ours the evening before.

E will yell, I'm not ready! I just have to pee!

G will gurgle, a flah flah flah! because he's still zipped up in his warm jacket but not yet sitting in the cool car.

I will carry three kids' lunch bags in one hand and one heavy baby in the other and descend the two steps into the garage. L will dart in front of me, circling the car and "unlocking" every door with her hardware as I try not to trip over her. All unlocked, Mama! she'll offer helpfully.

I'll get G in his carseat straps against his protests and I'll beg L to climb up in the other side and begin her straps and I'll call to E, "where are you? Are you coming?"

And L will have gone back into the house and will call to me, I'm coming! I had to hang up my keys! and G will be very disgruntled about his restraints and the second insult of the continuing lack of sisterly companionship in the back seat and E will still be mysteriously not here, and I have to remember to take the three lunch bags off of the roof of the car and inside. And who needed show and tell and do I have $10 and their signed permission slip and is today the deadline for canned goods for the food drive and does L need more underpants in her emergency clothes box and did I grab my phone and is my purse already in the car and did the lovely husband make me coffee, and did I leave it on the counter again?

Where are my daughters?

What else am I forgetting?

L calls to me that she's ready for me to buckle her straps and I run down my mental mama-checklist and I think I have everything and I call to E one last time, "child, will you be going to school today?" and she yells back, I can't come! I'm stuck!

And I grow exasperated and call again, "why not? We're all waiting!"

And three schoolday mornings in a row now, she has answered: I finished peeing and I can't wash my hands! I can't reach the sink because L stole the stool for her keys and didn't bring it back!

November 15, 2010
Still life with key rack
Where good safety protocols interfere with good hygiene. Pin It


Megan@SortaCrunchy said...

Oh my WORD does this ever sound familiar. Yes. Yes, it does.

a li'l bit squishy said...

Thanks for the outloud laugh. Ruby moved her bathroom stool this weekend to another room. Of course, no one else needs the stool so she only fooled herself in a near emergency.
Also, heads up about the leaving the house bit, it gets easier in a couple of years when the can zip, buckle and remember their own lunches.