It started off magically. SOS got up with his alarm. That alone is cause for celebration in the Kingdom. After 60+ days of sleeping until Noon, miraculously, with no empty threats or expensive bribes from me, he got up, showered, groomed, gathered his necessities (phone, ipod, earplugs ... paper and pen? what for?) and was out of the house before 7am!! Is that a pig I see flying by my window?
Despite the fact that he is going into his Junior Year of High School, and quite capable of getting himself ready once he overcomes the obstacle of the alarm clock, I, the clingy, loving, over-protective mother that I am, decided to get up too, so as to support him, inspect him, kiss him and wave frantically from the front door as he wait for the bus (next year he'll be driving!, sigh) because I knew deep down inside, even if he wouldn't admit it, that he wanted me to and, had I not, his day would be lacking a certain je ne sais quoi? Warmth? love? embarrassment? So, when I heard him get out of the shower, I flew out of bed, powdered my nose (Beauty Tip: powdering nose is a quick fix that takes the attention away from bedhead, dried drool and crusty eyes) and positioned my crown atop my head, while humming a happy tune and headed down the stairs to the cucina to prepare some porridge, no wait, wrong fairy tale.... an egg and orange juice. Which he did not eat. Which angered me. A little. I mean I got out of bed. Just for you. I know you didn't ask me to. But I did. ... okay, over it, but see if I do that tomorrow! I will. Out the door he went.
Prince Charming came down next, rushing to make his plane. Lovingly, I insisted he eat the egg that I had prepared just for him, being the good wife that I am ;) .... he ate it, kissed me goodbye and out the door he went.
Lastly came DDA, my daughter for whom college started last week but who's first day back at work was today (she works at a high school while going to school full time. Yes, I am very proud) ... She grabs a quick snack and runs out the door, screaming "goodbye, love you!".
In my mind I had an agenda. Well thought out and carefully calculated. Mistake No. 1.
Give me a minute.......
SILENCE!!! *Deep cleansing breath*
Okay, where was I? Agenda, right.
First on the list: Put away groceries that were delivered...Oh, Sweet Merciful Crap! Mistake No. 2.
It might have helped if I had actually submitted my Peapod Order and didn't just fill up my shopping cart and leave it, stranded in it's cyber aisle, perishables and all. Shouldn't there be someone in charge of stranded carts? You know, a stranded-cart-monitor or something? Surely they could find someone who'd love that job. They could even wear a badge, you know real important. The time saved by not having to physically go to the food store, trek down each aisle, peruse the specials and then impatiently wait on line behind the Dutchess of Coupons and Gossiping Gertrude was going to afford me the extra time I needed for everything else I had planned on accomplishing, not to mention sparing me from the temptations that would sabotage my efforts of getting back into shape after what one might refer to as an overindulgent Summer. So I picked a new delivery time for tomorrow as an attempt to salvage the rest of my plans. It's not as though the cupboards are empty. Okay, they are. It was a long weekend! The teens won't starve! Trust me. When it comes to food, much like a blood hound on the scent of um, blood, my kids have a sixth sense, not to mention what they have stored away for winter hibernation.
After cursing out Peapod, because clearly their lack of a stranded-cyber-cart-monitor had thrown a monkey wrench into my schedule, I decided to chalk this one up to unavoidable inconvenience and move on to the next thing on my mental list. Very mature of me dontcha think? Maybe not the cursing part but the whole moving on thing...
What followed next can only be referred to as a series of unfortunate events, only these were real, not fictional stories. Simply put, Mistakes No. 3-7.
Since it was so quiet, the house being empty and all, I heard the garbage men coming down the block. Having cleaned out the refrigerator for the food that wasn't being delivered, naturally I had a bag full of
And that is when my day went completely sour, both figuratively and literally.
sekam dniwer dnuos eht si sihT (That's is the sound rewind makes.)
The garbage truck sounded very close.
So I ran.
Out the front door.
Humongous garbage bag full of foul smelling food in my arms.
On to the stoop.
That housed the dogs chain.
That wrapped around my ankle.
That caused me to stumble.
That sent me flying.
Into the air.
Into the bushes.
Had the garbage bag landed first it would have cushioned my fall.
It did not.
Instead, I cushioned it.
So there I sat.
Covered in rancid food.
When the truck pulled up, I gracefully stood, arms in air as if I had planned this gymnastic maneuver and this was my flawless dismount.
I was pretty certain they didn't suspect a thing ;)
Until I went inside and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
I've given new meaning to the term "spaghetti curls".
(I suggest you insert a very long, very loud string of profanities here)