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In all reality, I have no excuse.
I am notorious for over-extending myself, taking on too many projects, and not knowing when to say “NO, I AM SORRY. I CAN’T.”
Topped off by the fact that, during the holiday season, my brain apparently leaves the building, heads to the North Pole with Santa, and stays there for a stretch of time. I have my suspicion that it ends up up the hind end of one of his reindeer as well.
Uber-forgetful is my middle name for the month of December.
Not sure why, I just know I get a quasi-form of Early-Onset-Alzheimer’s-Short-Term-Memory-Loss that miraculously rights itself right around January 2nd.
Last night was no exception. I shall subtitle this one “Epic Parent Fail #1,000,000,001.
Let me set the stage for you. It’s time for Prince Jake’s Second Grade Christmas Program. The notice (you know, the one that’s been hanging on the fridge for a week?) states the kids are to wear:
1. Specific colors: Black or, white or red.
2. blah, blah, blah, blah..and boys are encouraged to wear ties.
…I faded off somewhere after that send line. Epic Fail #1. So, in my head of course, I think “oh yeah, we have dress-up clothes for Jake.” My hubby, bless his heart, nags encourages me to actually LOOK for said “dress-up clothes”. I skim, I glance, I half-ass look look through his closet and spy what I deem to be Acceptable Formal Wear For Boys. Epic Fail #2
Do I pull it out and examine it? Effff no. Epic Fail #3.
Fast forward to the night of the Christmas Program. I arrive home from work, late, ornery, harried (normal) after, dare I say, one of the crappiest days I have had at work in a long time. But thrilled to be home to my family nonetheless. Christmas Program time is 46 minutes away and counting. Supper is wolfed down, small children are rounded up, and I herd Jake to his room to “get him dressed.” That’s where things start coming off the rails.
Dress Shirt: That white polo shirt that was last years “dress shirt” kinda fits him like a wet suit this year. Too small? Slightly. Any long-sleeved shirts anywhere? Frick no.
No time to fuss…carry on.
Tie: Are ties acceptable to wear with a short sleeved polo? Crud.
Tie part 2: Does anyone in this damn house know how to tie a damn tie?? Quick, go ask Sara. Maybe she knows (the 5 year-old).
Pants: Black. Looks..OK. Since when did these dang things get so faded? (Christmas Program departure time is now 11 minutes away. Mom’s B.P is now up to 220/120). Any other acceptable pants available? No, of course not. Plow forward regardless.
Shoes: Shoes? Crap. Where’s his dress shoes? I found one…yes just one. Where’s the other damn shoes!!?? Yes, yes, tennis shoes will be fine (be quiet Daddy, I don’t care if they have a hole in the toe. No, no, I don’t think he looks like a homeless kid). Shoes on. Onward we go!
Whew! In the car. Everyone have their stuff? Me? Of course I have my stuff…
Camera? Any recording-device-whatsoever? Brain?
UMMM……No, no, and somewhere at the North Pole up a Reindeer’s sphincter.
Child delivered to classroom, CHECK. Noting that he is the only boy without a tie. CHECK. Slinking down hall to gymnasium. CHECK. Feeling like worst parent in the world? CHECK.
I lament to hubs I wish I had the camer. His response? You seriously want to record this fiasco for eternity?
No, I guess not. I will however, be making a voyage to the department store tomorrow to purchase a long sleeve shirt and a clip-on tie.
And find that other damn shoe.
I will also note on the calendar, in the vicinity of the month of December, to DOUBLE CHECK DRESS CLOTHES.
Mortified to the maxiumus? CHECK