A {Great} Day

This day actually happened last week, but it has taken me awhile to find the time to type it up...but the story tells better if it seems like it just happened. Bare with me!

This is why Mommy needs wine:

Today is my shopping day. We live in a rural area, and we are lucky enough to have a small store in our town. That's great for a quick loaf of bread or gallon of milk, but for my weekly grocery list, I drive 40 miles to the nearest major supermarket. As any mother will understand, doing this with a 13 month boy in tow is the textbook definition of "crazy", but alas, he is the least of my problems.

*Bing* I'm getting a text message. Because I know about 5 people who text me, I'm fairly confident that this is from the Teen.
Can you bring $4o to the school for a yearbook?
10 minutes later I hit "send":
U need it 2day
10 seconds later he replies:
This is the last day.
10 minutes later I reply:
How long hav u known about this
10 seconds later he replies:
I only heard about it today. Maybe they started last week, but I never heard anything about it.
I happen to know that they have been for sale for over 3 months, from a friend with a high school daughter who bought hers 3 months ago! But because the twenty signs he had to walk by on a daily basis and the daily morning announcement about yearbook sales never actually mentioned him BY NAME, how could be expected to take notice? My typical response to this type of situation is my favorite quote: "Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part." However, putting that in a text message might put my thumb in traction, so this is what I texted:
I ll see if i have time
Which in my head means "You little sh@@, this is incredibly inconvenient/expensive, and we will definitely be discussing this at a later time!!" but my kids hear "Yes."

So on my way through town I stop by the high school to drop off a check. (And to verify with the office ladies that the yearbooks have been for sale for 3 months, and they were actually only $35 dollars if you bought them at the beginning. Grrrrr) Then I got on the interstate and headed out of town to buy my groceries. Right before I entered a "no signal" zone, I get a call from the Angel.
"Mommy?"
"Yeah?"
"I forgot to bring tennis shoes and we have gym today and the teacher says if we don't have tennis shoes we can't play!"
"What shoes are you wearing?"
"My Uggs."
"And you can't run in those?"
"We can't wear them in the gym. Can you bring me my tennis shoes?" (Insert the high pitched, sickeningly sweet, begging voice here.)
"No, honey, I'm sorry, I'm on the interstate." If you had called an hour ago...
"Okay." (Inject a huge amount of dejected guilt.)
As it turns out, they ended up playing kickball outside, so this whole conversation served no purpose other than to raise my blood pressure.

The shopping goes off without a hitch. (Except the Peanut dropping his "spill-proof" sippy cup on the floor and it breaking into 7 pieces, spilling water all over the place and causing us to hunt up a store employee, a rare anomaly, to clean it up before someone could slip. *sigh*) After this day, and knowing the Teen had a band concert that night, we decided to pick up some sandwiches from a take out sub-sandwich place. ("Yes, that's right. Ham and cheese and NO Veggies! I want them to actually eat it!")

Returning home we pulled in right behind the school bus. (After SLOWLY following it through every stop along the way.) I unloaded the groceries and instructed the Teen to ensure his band uniform was clean. After settling the younger two into their sandwiches, the Teen comes out of the bathroom wearing his uniform pants.
"Umm, I think you missed the zipper," I said, gesturing toward his...zipper.
"Oh, yeah. It's ripped. I can't help it."
Pressing my hand to my forehead and glancing enviously at the 6 inch Veggie Delight waiting for me, I almost told him to put on some black underwear and call it good. I didn't. While he ate his sandwich, I managed to un-earth some black thread and a needle and hand-stitched the zipper back into his pants. I finished with just enough time to get shoes and coats on everyone and get us to the high school less than 5 minutes late! (A personal best.)
Fortunately, the high school band played first in this concert. (A music festival concert, which also means "music no one but professional musicians want to hear".) The Peanut managed to sit through the first three songs, and then I had to take him out. I spent the rest of the concert chasing the Peanut around the cafeteria, trying to listen to the choir and other ensembles, in case there was a quiz later.

After returning home, the Angel and Peanut snug in their beds, I was pouring myself a 32 oz glass of wine, scarfing my yet un-touched sandwich, and discussing the concert with the Teen.
"Oh, yeah, the second song was my favorite." Hopefully there was a second song...
"Yeah, that one was good! The tambourine was really difficult in that one."
"Hey, by the way, did you pick up the check I left for you at the office?"
"What check?"

Glug, glug, glug...