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“Next time, throw some cereal at them, they’ll be fine.” She smirks.
“Tried that too, damn kids.” I laugh then lower my voice slightly even though no one is in the room. “Then yesterday, I was washing dishes while the kids played in the back yard, and I found myself thinking about that night over and over again.” I feel the heat creep into my cheeks.
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about! That’s how you know it’sreallygood.”
“Now I want a repeat because I feel like I’ve been missing out all these years! Anyway, we have a date tonight. I’m taking the kids to my parents for a sleepover after the kids’ class parties so we get some uninterrupted adult time. We’ll see how the night will end.” I offer her a wicked smile and she giggles. I grab my towel and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I forgot to ask, are you volunteering at the kid’s party later?”
“Yup, I’ll be there.”
“I’ll see you later then.”
We hug and I head out to the van to start running errands before the party. I need to go pick up my grocery order, get home and put everything away, switch the laundry and fold what’s dry so I can pack the kids’ clothes for their sleepover with the grandparents. Then I need to pick up the house before loading what feels like a thousand dollars’ worth of cheese, carrots, and grapes for three class parties in my van.
Ahh, the glamorous life of a mom.
By the time I get to the first class party a few hours later, I amso overthis flipping day.
They didn’t have half the food I needed for my weekly meal prep for my grocery pickup; the damn dryersensedmy clothes were dry and stopped, but they were still sopping wet, so I had to start the damn thing over again and barely enough time to pack the kids’ clothes when it finished;thenI tripped on a helmet in the garage, causing me to spill one of the three party food trays in my hand all over the garage floor. After I punted the damn helmet into the wall, I waded through the food that had fallen so I could get back inside to split the other two trays into the third container. I didn’t even have time to clean it up so it’s still laying on the garage floor stinking up my garage.
Note to self: buy Camden a new helmet because I’m pretty sure I smashed that bitch into oblivion.
I turned my radio to classical music to clear my mind on the drive to the school, but all I can manage was to screamFUCKrepeatedly while banging the steering wheel.
It was surprisingly helpful.
My phone pings a text right before I go to get out of my van.
Marco: Be sure to send me pictures. I wish I could be there.
It’s always so funny to me how these classes alwaysconvenientlyfall on his days off when I could use his presence. I know he’d rather be with us though, so that helps a little. I can picture him hiding his phone under the table in class like a teenager trying not to get caught texting. That image brings a smile to my face.
Ellie: I will. I’m sure they’ll be excited to tell you all about it.
Marco: How’s your day going?
Ellie: Zumba was great, but it’s gone to shit since. I’m in the parking lot trying to get it together before I get out of my car.
Marco: Deep breathes. If it’s any consolation, this active shooter instructor is an asshole who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. A few of the other guys and I have had to correct him on his tactics. Like why waste our time with this shit?
Ellie: Tell him to take a seat and you’ll take it from there. Lol
Marco: I wish. This class is a lost opportunity. There’s so much more education he should be teaching, but he’s droning on like he’s got something valuable to say.
Ellie: Ugh, that is a waste. The class is almost over though so just keep your head down and try to get through the day.
Marco: I’m trying. Have a good party. I love you.
Ellie: I love you too. See you tonight.
After talking to Marco, a sense of calm washes over me. I get out and grab the snack trays from my trunk,carefully, and I walk into the school.
After checking in with the front desk, I head to the boys’ classrooms to drop off their snacks, thankfully not causing a distraction. Then I head to the girls’ classroom for their party first.
Sometimes I feel like that toy you can stretch and stretch but it miraculously never snaps in two.
The girls’ party has already started, and they both jump from their table to come and greet me while I put the platter on the food table.
“Momma! Momma! Yay, you’re here.” Olivia jumps into my arms after I lower to my knee, and she squeezes me tight. With her tiny arms wrapped around my shoulders, I inhale her familiar hibiscus and coconut conditioner before kissing her on the head.
