So this morning, as I was
standing at the counter eating from a pan of lemon bars with a fork cleaning up after breakfast, I realized that Cameron had forgotten to take his library book to school.
I got a sinking feeling, because the last time he forgot his library book, I thought I'd never hear the end of it. "I didn't turn in my boooooooooook so I couldn't check out a neeeeew ooooooonnnne!" he had bawled, almost unintelligibly, as soon as he got home. I'd felt so bad for him. He loves library day at school and was really disappointed when he didn't get to check anything out. And if I didn't get the book to him, it was going to be the same scenario this time.
I looked at the clock. Eight-thirty. Cameron's in preschool, which only lasts until ten o'clock, so I knew I'd have to get a serious move on if I wanted to catch him before his class went to the library.
I was still in my dropping-off-the-kids uniform which is basically a t-shirt and loungy pants. I wear those because I don't actually have to get out of the car (unless someone runs into me, I mean). Taking the book to Cameron would mean going into the school - which would mean, like, looking at least halfway presentable. Not only that, but it would also mean going into the school with both Coby and Corbin in tow.
But if I didn't drop off the book, poor Cameron would have to miss out on one of his favorite activities of the week. And if you're a parent, you know that the thought of your child being disappointed hurts your heart in a way that nothing else does.
I hustled along, slapping on some makeup, putting on some clothes, trying to coerce my morning bedhead into a respectable 'do. Hurry, hurry. Grabbed the book off the kitchen counter. Hurry, hurry. Rounded up Coby and Corbin, putting on shoes, leading Coby out the door (and y'all? A sloth could beat Coby out the door). Hurry, hurry. Got everyone in the car and buckled into seats. Tried not to speed (too fast) to the school.
When I got to the school, run-walking as best I could while lugging Corbin in his heavy baby seat and practically dragging Coby's dawdling behind, I took the book to the secretary in the lobby. "I need to return this book to my son," I said breathlessly. "He's in preschool, and today's their library day, and he won't get to check out a new one unless he turns this one in." Pant, pant, wheeze.
The secretary smiled brightly. "Okay! Do you want to take the book to your son's classroom?"
I blinked. No! I wanted to scream. I have just busted my ass to get ready in a fired-up hurry and readied two uncooperative children and dragged them into and out of the car and schlepped them into the school lobby and it was like pulling two mules up a hill and my arm is aching from carrying this carseat and if I go back into the preschool room Coby will have a fit because he'll want to stay and I'll have to listen to him gripe about it for much longer than I care to and can't you just have someone deliver the damn book to the library?
But since I couldn't say that, I just said, "...Sure."
So I walked. With both kids. Down the hall. Into the preschool room. Fielded Coby's inevitable whines of, "Mom, can I stay? Can I?"
And finally, finally, dropped. Off. The book.
All this for Captain Underpants and the Attack of the Talking Toilets.
When Cameron got home from school, I was hoping for a little gratitude. "So, Cam, were you glad that Mommy dropped your book off for you?"
"Yes, Mommy," he said.
"Great! So did you check out another book?" I asked.
"Yep!" he said proudly. "Look!" And he pulled out of his backpack ....
THE SAME BOOK HE'D JUST HAD ... ONLY IN SOFTCOVER THIS TIME.
The same book he had forgotten. The same book I had nearly run myself ragged in an effort to return to him. The same book that he could have just kept all week and I'd never have had to make the extra trip to the school.
He's lucky I love him ...