12 November 2009

I Hate Yellow Day

Argh! It's freaking Yellow Day! That totally sucks.

Why the antipathy towards the color of the sun?

Because last night, in preparation for "free dress" day at the kids' school, I asked every single one of my school-going offspring what they wanted to wear to school instead of a uniform and they all brought me their choices, and I did the freaking' laundry, down to underwear and socks and was totally prepared for the morning and went to bed under the illusion of being ready, for once. THEN, at 5am this morning, my brain finally decided to WORK for one damn time, and reminded me that when it's free dress day, it's a COLOR DAY for Kindergarten, and I had forgotten that and didn't check the Kindergarten calendar and was therefore most definitely NOT prepared.

And now, it's Yellow Day. WE DON'T HAVE YELLOW! At least not clean yellow.

Just once, I would like a morning with no surprises. Just once, when I go to the effort to be prepared in advance, I would like my brain to cooperate and remember things in a timely fashion. Just once, I would like to show up at school and NOT feel like a careening clown car, screeching up to the curb with ungodly sounds emanating from the interior and resentful children pouring out with messy hair and frayed pant legs and forgotten lunches and unfinished homework and someone just remembering at that moment that if he doesn't bring in his library book TODAY the entire class gets to throw spit wads at him and his life will be ruined.

I hate Yellow Day.

I'm trying, Ringo; I'm trying real hard to be a shepard. That's not working out so well for me.

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Edited to add a follow-up:

The Kindergartner arrived in yellow, thanks to a Sponge Bob PJ top, loaned to her from her older sister. And I got to watch my three year old march across the school yard with a tootsie roll wrapper stuck to her butt.


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3 comments:

Teacher Mommy said...

Ugh. That's what life is for me and I only have two. I cannot even IMAGINE what you deal with.

I bow to your greatness.

(I'm serious.)

Monica said...

Greatness? Really? No one ever told me that greatness feels remarkably like scrapping by on a wing and a prayer, with unshaved legs, unbrushed hair, sleep deprivation, too much caffiene, not enough patience, and a really, really bad attitude. Live and learn. :)

Debra said...

I'm definitely calling Lu Tootsie from now on!