It was a tough afternoon. We rolled in on Sunday after being on vacation. The kids missed the first week of school. Frantic, I started working to put the pieces of the puzzle together to get us set for the rest of the day and for Monday: unloading the car, uniforms out, trip to the gro, lunches packed, 2 side dishes for the girls’ afternoon service club meeting, dessert and a main dish for the church youth kickoff at six. Does every event in our life have to kick off today? Did the NC Legislature pass a bill that requires every function in the state to hold a covered dish dinner? McCrory did give those protesters a plate of cookies.
I knew if I didn’t do DJ’s laundry she’d be heading to her first day of school in the buff. No one wants to start their junior year naked –plus she’s already pulling into the parking lot in a 1997 Subaru wagon. She keeps reminding me that she and the “new” car were born in the same year.
I logically argued: “Do you really want to be the girl who drives up to school right after her 16th birthday with a brand new car? Everyone hates her.”
Without a blink she responded, “Yea. Yea I do. I want to be her. ”
I opened the vacation cooler, there were several bottles of beer left from Happy Hour – oh the sweet memories of last week. I tossed them on top of the clothes for the trip to the basement fridge, the Lunchables were hogging the ice box upstairs. I unloaded the beer and put the basket of whites in the queue.
When DJ walked in the house, I told her to go switch her laundry.
“The darks need to go into the dryer. The whites are in the basket at the bottom of the stairs.”
She did as I asked, apprently hurling them in the machine in one big clump.
Fifteen minutes before leaving for church, I went downstairs to switch the last load.
As I pulled out the whites, I heard clanking. Hmmm, wonder what she left in her pockets this time…
I was shocked when I grabbed a handful of bras and came back with a bloody thumb. What in the heck was she packin,’ a switchblade?
Upon further investigation, I found remnants of a bottle of beer. Man, you left a bottle in the laundry basket you moron!
I shook each item out over the empty laundry basket, shards of glass plopping out of socks, undies and my kid’s white tees.
I can hear the conversations facing me this week:
“Dad, something’s sticking in my butt when I sit.”
“Baby it’s just a little Stella Artois. It takes a while to develop a feel for it.”
“Dad, I feel like I’m wrapped in Tyvek insulation.”
“You’ll be warmer that way. No sweater needed this winter.”
“Dad, the Headmaster called me into the office. She said it had been reported that I smelled like I’d been drinking.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“I told her that most parents put fabric softener in their laundry for a fresh clean smell but that my dad tosses in a bottle of beer. That’s right, the beer and the BOTTLE – “
“Would you believe I got the idea from Heloise Conquors Stinks and Stains?”
I thought I was going to scar my kids emotionally. Looks like I might actually scar my kids from the glass that’s embedded in their clothes.
Could happen to anyone… right?
Book Update: Laughter, Tears and Braids
Several of you found my book, Laughter, Tears and Braids on Amazon last week. We took it down because I found five typos. It’s going back up to be released on September 11. If you’re brave enough to order a copy, consider doing so on the 11th. My publisher says big sales on the first day will help in the world of Amazon rankings. More to come next weekend, including a link.