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“I’d love to. You can never have enough friends, if you ask me.”
Seemingly happy with my response, Marcus turned his attention back to his mother. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I bargained, trying to get Jasmine the extra work time I knew she desperately needed. “Come with me to get dressed, and I’ll make you a snack.”
“Okay!” he agreed, happily sliding off the couch and slipping his chubby hand in mine.
Just like that, we were fast friends, the first awkward moments were behind us and I was being lulled into a false sense of security with no warning for what the rest of the day would bring.
If the afternoon starting with me getting kicked in the nose could be called chaotic, then it started with chaos and spiraled from there. At exactly 2:05, just as Marcus was finishing up his snack, Jasmine slammed her laptop shut, slid out of her chair and grabbed her purse.
“Time to go if we don’t want to get stuck in the pick-up line forever,” she announced.
Apparently the kindergarten and third grade were in totally different school buildings, and got out at almost the same time, making pick-up time a mad rush of crazy drivers all heading to the same place at once. We went to the kindergarten first. Jasmine left me in the car while she picked up her middle child. It took a lot longer than I’d expected and when she came out almost running with him in tow, I knew it took longer than she’d expected too. She practically threw him into the car, mumbling about missing socks as she buckled him in before flinging open the driver side door and falling into her seat.
She whipped out of the parking lot and onto the road like a mad woman, and I made a note to discuss her driving with her before the day was over. She was carrying precious cargo, after all. The seatbelt alarm pinged and I raised an eyebrow in her direction as she scrambled to drive and also put her seatbelt on. Mentally adding that to things we would be talking about later, I turned my focus back to the road.
“Mommy, who’s that man?” her middle child, who I remembered was named Trevor, asked from the back seat, parroting Marcus’s questions from earlier.
“His name is Mr. Bain and he’s mommy’s friend and my friend, too.” This time Marcus answered, and I turned to grin at him before turning my attention to Trevor.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Mr. Bain. Do you wanna be my friend, too?”
“Sure, buddy. You can never have enough friends.” The conversation was nearly identical to the one I’d had with his brother.
Seemingly happy with my response, Trevor turned his attention back to his mother. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”
“Your teacher said you had a snack after nap time. We have some things to do, and then we will go home and have dinner.”
“I want French fries.” His voice quickly turned from sweet and cheerful to high-pitched and whiny. I didn’t have to look at Jasmine to know she was already tensing up.
“We’re not getting French fries!” Her voice was exasperated. “We need to pick up your sister and go to soccer. We’re going to be late as it is.”
He continued to ask for things, everything from Goldfish crackers to McDonalds and ice cream, and she continued to argue all the way to the school. Jasmine was getting increasingly more frustrated with his whining, and when we were stopped in the pick-up line at the elementary school, she turned around and lost her temper with him.
“Trevor, I told you no. We are getting your sister and going to soccer, and then we are going home to have dinner. Stop asking me for things!”
I looked out the window, trying to basically make myself invisible as Trevor started to cry. Not just a normal cry, though; a wailing cry that could have chased a poltergeist out of town.
“I’m sorry, Bain.” Jasmine laid her head on the steering wheel.
“I’m fine,” I lied, feeling like my ear drums were about to burst.
Trevor continued to scream until Jasmine’s oldest got in the car. “Ahhhh! Why is he yelling?” The precocious child, who I knew was named Marlee, covered her ears as she tried to maneuver herself and her backpack into the car.
“Hurry up!” Jasmine half said, half shouted from the front seat.
“Don’t push me!” Marlee yelled as Trevor shoved her against the car window because her backpack bumped his leg.
“Keep your stupid backpack off of my space!” Trevor shouted back at her.
I closed my eyes and counted backward. Now I could see what she was talking about. This entire situation was chaotic and overwhelming, and I was actually glad I could see it first-hand because I wouldn’t understand it fully if I wasn’t witnessing it.
“Stop fighting and get buckled, please!” Jasmine attempted to yell over the fighting and screaming. The kids seemed to be doing what they were supposed to, but the volume never decreased and the bickering never stopped.
Jasmine turned the car out of the school parking lot and drove a few feet before jerking the car off the side of the road and slamming it into park. Her cheeks were red with anger as she turned to face her unhappy passengers.
