Good day, Mates! I'm so proud to bring you words from Jen at Momma Made It Look Easy. She's a funny lady and can tell you a thing or two about life (or horse butts, whichever suits you). Enjoy and have a great weekend!
If you want more Neighborhood Friday fun, click on the button and head on over to Amy at The Never-True Tales!
First, I want to thank TKW for letting me guest post today. I can't do herkys or cook like her and I promise that you do not want to see pictures of my food. I mean I whipped up this taco mac and cheese thing this week (because I had no planned dinner and kids to feed) that looked completely disgusting (but tasted super awesome). So on to the post.
I'm so good I'm bad... or wait, is it the other way around...
I love being a mother. Unfortunately I'm not always great at it. Don't get me wrong. I'm good (like most of us). Most of the time I'm mediocre, but sometimes I really rock at it. Like when I make super cute goody bags for my daughter's preschool class... ahead of time (even though I usually just buy those nasty sugar cookies with an inch of frosting on top from the Walmart bakery the night before... or on the way to school) or when I talk to her about falling in love (or she talks to me, whatever). But then sometimes I totally suck. Like today.
Every Wednesday Baby Girl has dance. She takes tap and ballet. I love it. She tolerates it. I mean she loves to dance and the recital is totally her thing, but she really isn't about the whole class structure. I'm hoping she grows out of that. One of the great things about the dance school we use is that the teacher picks her up from daycare and all I have to do is pick her up from the afternoon class.
The only problem with that is that she gets out of dance at 4:00, which is the same time I get off work. Really it isn't a problem. I just leave a few minutes early and I get there right in time to pick her up. I don't even have to deal with the other dance moms (one of which brought a Valentines goody bag for all the kids today, gag).
Normally Jon, my office assistant, reminds me that I need to leave. I get to work and I get busy and I kind of lose focus and I forget what day it is and what time it is and everything slips away from me. He helps me remember. Today he was out sick. And we had surveyors in and I was having to kick everyone out of the office so I could lock the door and then I got a call as I was leaving and sat in the parking lot to finish it and then I called my mom to share some exciting news and I talked to her all the way home and I walked in and David said, "where's Baby Girl?" And I was all, "duh, she's at school..." (he does pick up every afternoon). And he said, "It's WEDNESDAY."
I RAN out of the house and RACED to the dance studio to get her. I was THIRTY minutes late. Luckily the dance studio is like two minutes from my house. I parked in the fire lane and ran in to get her. She was patiently sitting and waiting on the bench watching the big girls in the next class. She saw me walk in and yelled, "Momma," and jumped up and ran to me. I looked at the dance teacher and said, "ooops, sorry." She said, "no big deal" and went back to teaching. I'm guessing that I wasn't the first mother to show up late. Go figure.
I apologized profusely and promised her a Happy Meal for dinner. She acted like it really wasn't that big of a thing. And then I did what all smart moms do. I laid the blame on someone else. I said, "Baby Girl I'm so sorry that I was late, but Jon wasn't at work today it is HIS JOB to remind me to come get you and he wasn't there to remind me today. Blame Jon."
She was in the backseat shouting, "Blame Jon! Blame Jon!"
I think we both learned a valuable lesson today. See. I told you I rock.
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Hope you enjoyed the giggle, readers! Thanks for checking in with us this Friday!