I will tell you a funny story about yesterday. I was very upset at the time, but am now over it.
Peter was gone yesterday morning, and he's an integral part of my morning routine. Normally Peter takes Ev to school on Tuesdays because I teach first block. He also makes Evvy's lunch, supervises her breakfast, feeds the dog and helps to load/unload the dishwasher. So, as expected, I was in an absolute frenzy yesterday as I tried to do all this, plus get Evvy and myself out of the house with all of our supplies, in time to drop her off at before-school care and get me to work for first block English @ 8:20. Five minutes before we're supposed to leave, she reminds me that she needs something (the picture of me) to bring for lost-and-found. The only computer in the house hooked up to the printer is Peter's, so I'm frantically texting him for his password and trying to figure out Windows 8, which is like an alien planet to me. I am cursing through clenched teeth and pounding keyboards until, miraculously, it prints!
Photo in hand, feeling raggedly triumphant, I run downstairs, bundle Evvy into the car, all the while mentally reviewing the departure checklist. Only when we're en route do I realize that I haven't brushed her hair. Too bad. No time to go back into the house and search for her brush, so I did the old 5-finger comb and shrugged it off as being a bad hair day.
We arrive at her school and I am literally running down the hall dragging her by the hand because I now have 10 minutes to get to my own school before the bell rings and I am expected to deliver a well-prepared lesson that I have not yet photocopied. On the way out of her school, I notice several mothers carefully preening their children. Their children are wearing cute little dresses, slacks, ties, hair bands and - gasp - lip gloss. Shit. It is photo day. It is photo day and my child looks like she's crawled out of a bin. But at least she has her show and tell.
I have yet to see the photo, but I'm not optimistic. I sincerely hope there are re-takes.