Or at least that's what I tell myself to alleviate the rush of guilt I feel for even thinking of trading in my third cup of sugar laced coffee for one of the "good" glasses and a splash of shiraz.
Tori missed the bus this morning. She wanted to engage me in a conversation that went something like:
me: Tori! Leave your shoes on. The bus'll be here in sixteen minutes!
Tori: (ignores me and takes her shoes off) Can I watch Wishbone?
me: No. Zoe's watching George. Put your shoes on.
Tori: I don't want my blue coat. I need a scarf.
me: You can't wear that sweater as a coat. You'll be cold at recess.
Tori: I want to wear the sweater. Where's my scarf from last year?
me: It's not in the box. I looked yesterday morning. Put your shoes back on now.
Tori: Why? My bus alarm hasn't even gone off yet.
(phone buzzes and then sings the bus warning)
me: That's your bus alarm. Where are your shoes? Put your coat on! You are going to miss the bus!
Tori: I don't want to wear my blue coat. I want to wear this sweater.
me: Put your SHOES ON!
Tori: I want help.
me. Fine. Give me your foot.
Tori: (holds foot up limply and whines) I want my scarf....I don't want to wear my coat....
(bus brakes squeal in front of house)
Tori: THAT'S my BUS! MOM! My bus!
me: I'm tieing as fast as I can.
(bus drives away)
Yes. It finally happened. I would like to note that the 8:21 pick up happened at 8:18 this morning. But hey, who's punching the clock.
I guess I could just take her to school myself...oh wait. My car has been in the shop for TWO WEEKS. We are waiting for a part. From Canada. Because you should order a part off of ebay and MAKE SURE it isn't being shipped from the US. We like to keep things as difficult as possible around here.