a day in the life

i was reading back through some journaling i was doing last year and ran across this. it made me laugh and i thought i'd share. parents, you will understand! i refer to tug as '3' thru the entire entry, so i must have been planning to share it at the time and couldn't use his name because the adoption still was not final. he is now 4 and 1/2.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Taking my 3 year old to preschool, we stopped for gas. I only stopped because I was sure that I’d sputter to a halt if I tried to go another foot. We are under the impression in our house that you absolutely cannot put gas in a vehicle until every last drop of the previous tank is burned. We carry gas cans in both vehicles now.

But I digress. I stopped for gas and before I got out of the truck, two things happened. First, my 3 year old spied a Krispy Kreme donut sign in the window of the gas station and said “I can’t have donuts, Mommy.” That’s how my kids ask for things. I’m sure it denotes some psychological screw up that I’ve caused, but I’m starting a therapy fund now for them. Some parents contribute to college funds, we contribute to a therapy fund. The second thing that happened was that a very nice man told me the rear passenger tire on the truck was almost flat. So I pumped gas, then finagled this huge ½ ton pickup into a sliver of space by the air pump, pissing off the lawn guys who had to maneuver around me with their 8 mile long trailer, with my 3-year-old incessantly chanting “I can’t have donuts, Mommy, right?” The air compressor of course cost a dollar and of course only took quarters. What kind of an asshole designs these things? They are at CONVENIENCE stores for crying out loud – what’s convenient about that?

Well, at that point there was no avoiding the donuts. We headed into the store to get change for the air compressor, picked out a box of donut holes for 3’s class and a box for the teachers. Seven dollars later, I had my 4 quarters for 90 seconds of air. I let 3 help me with the compressor until I realized that the hissing of air I heard was coming OUT of my tire rather than going IN. With only 45 seconds of air left. I grabbed the hose, jammed the thing onto the thing and pressed the thing while 3 climbed on the stone wall beside me, asking incessantly for a donut.

Gassed and aired, I got 3 buckled back in and figured that at this point, dad may be home from work (his schedule at the time was 3 nights a week 7PM to 7AM), so I called to see if he wanted to see 3 before I dropped him at school. Since we were only 5 min from home and we were already super late, and it was Friday – garage sale day - I told him I’d come get him and he could ride with us to school and then he and I could hit a few garage sales together (Do I know how to seduce my husband or what?).

So, I grabbed my full cup of coffee off the dash, immediately dropped it into the most expensive purse I’ve ever owned, and set a very bad language example for my child who was still asking incessantly for a donut. I jumped out of the truck and ran around to the passenger side to try to salvage my purse and the atlas while 3 had not yet taken a breath in his pursuit of a donut. At one point, I even wondered if he would pass out and reset – kind of like they do if they hyperventilate. If I hadn't been so worried about my purse, I would have tried to find a bag for him to breathe into.

Finally, out of desperation, I opened the chocolate donut holes and gave him one. After a moment's hesitation, I took one too - even though it was supposed to be day 1 of my new and improved healthy life style, affectionately dubbed "My Year of Living Dangerously (healthy)."

+++++++++++++++++++++

wait - did i call this post a DAY in the life? it was still only morning!!