Well, this morning I was walking in to drop Elle off at daycare.
First, let me set the stage.
We got the note home with her daily report that she needed snacks and diapers. I woke up ahead of Elle (barely) and got myself sort of ready, made Elle’s bottles for school. I was feeling pretty good about the way my pants fit and the new sweater I bought at Old Navy on Friday, because it made me feel a little cute. I threw on a necklace, while Elle hung on me, did my make up while Elle hung on me.
Pretty typical morning, all in all.
Anyway, I had everything set out to take to school with us. I carry it down the stairs and when I get to the door to the garage, I don’t have enough hands to carry Elle (who is by this point melting down for whatever reason), the diapers, the snacks, her lunch sack, my purse.
I could make two trips, you say?
I COULD make two trips.
There are two scenarios here.
One is that I leave Elle unattended for the 10 seconds I sprint to the car and throw her stuff in and sprint back OR I take her to the car, strap her into her seat, and then listen to her scream at 8 a.m. for all the world to hear because she’s in the car all alone.
So, I opt for neither of those options and instead try to carry it all out the door together.
Which means I dropped most of it on the way to the car.
However, I was feeling really good about myself as a working mother that I had gotten all of the stuff together and gotten it out the door. I could do THAT, I can for sure carry it all too.
And then, we got to school, and there were no diapers.
And then, I remember.
They fell on the garage floor, which is where they remain. Good thing they weren’t FRESH out of diapers at school.
Anyway…I digress very far from the original path of this morning’s tale.
We get to school and I grab Elle and the things that I remembered and head toward the door.
There is another mom with her little girl – maybe four – heading in as well.
I step up onto the sidewalk when the little girl says – to no one in particular – “My brother is waaay cuter than her.”
I mean, I know that kids say the darndest things, but it was like ‘really?’. I laughed and smiled to myself and avoided eye contact with the mother at all costs.
I got to the door first, laughing, mainly, because the mother was obviously embarrassed and it made me laugh knowing that my time is coming with the perfectly right thing said at the perfectly wrong time.
My response was “I don’t know about that – but as a big sister, that’s EXACTLY what you’re supposed to say about your little brother”.
What doesn’t occur to me is that her brother, obviously being about the same size as Elle, will be in THE SAME ROOM.
Yes, we all crowd into the baby room together. And there is the cuter-than-you brother.
And he was cute, I’ll give him that, but cuter than my girlie?
He’s round and chubby and seemed good-spirited.
Elle at this point is now playing with stacking cups in the play area of the room and is being a perfect angel (I kid you not). Score one for my kid looking WAAAY cuter and acting nicer.
But, who’s counting??
I look at the little brother, carefully avoiding eye contact with the mother for fear my look will say “sistah puh-leeeze, your kid is obviously not cuter than mine and we both know it”. So, I avoid eye contact and focus on brother.
And he proceeds to vomit all over the teacher, himself and his sister’s shoes.
Annnnddddd…score one for us.