I Remembered

I remembered what I had meant to post. It was one of those mom moments where you are absolutely so stunned that you don't know whether to holler or curse or to make a life moment of explaining the right thing to do for your children.

But after a long weekend on my own with Alan out of town, and worn out with the variety of screwiness that followed the weekend including a baseball game, team pictures, making a garden, covering for my boss, a cleaning project inside, a toaster oven failure, etc., I was VERY glad to end my Monday with picking my boys up. But it was stinking raining so here we were dashing to the car from school with still thinking about whether we had to negotiate baseball practice AND cub scouts or just scouts or neither depending on how tired we freaking were.

Before I could even put the car in drive Noah hollered he was thirsty. In my ultra-Seattle re-usable bag, I had a stash of juice boxes and fruit snacks and cracked open a fresh Minute Maid apple juice for him. As I was handing it back to him he started screaming like a mad man because HE WAS SPRAYING IT ALL OVER HIMSELF AND HIS BOOSTER SEAT WHILE I WAS STILL HOLDING IT. Some how it wasn't registering to him to just let go of the damn juice box. This wasn't the first time we've done the hand-the-juice-box-back-to-the-pre-schooler-in-the-car-seat-maneuver so I don't understand what the failure was here.

I used Joshua's sweatshirt jacket to clean it up and vowed to wash it when I got home tonight. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure that I left it in the car. Gimme a break... I carried in a backpack, computer bag, cute blue purse, Target shopping bag, stuffed leopard and a pizza in one shot. I'm not a super hero.

But that little incident isn't what really blistered me. It was about half a mile later at a red light where Joshua handed me his capped water bottle and asked me to "open it carefully". Now Joshua has OCD, is meticulous, is relentlessly careful and as Jill has often said, a 46-year-old man in a 7-year-old body. So telling me to be careful opening a container for fear of a tiny spray of random water that he doesn't want to get on his own flesh or clothes is not unusual.

BUT NO.

This sucker dumped at least half a cup of water or more all over me and my lap and my drivers seat. And all Joshua can say is "See. It does that every time! I don't get it."

I could only turn around and stare.

Really.

Couldn't he have just told me it spilled water every time he opened it?

We stopped at Target and bought Icees and popcorn and a new water bottle.

Remember when we didn't take water bottles to school and instead lined up behind the entire class to wait for the drinking fountain after gym just hoping we weren't behind somebody gross as if that made a difference in the amount of germs we were inhaling off the faucet?
-Sheryl