More Monday Mania

Daily Foglifter:  The sticky up thingies on a car battery are called Positive (+) and Negative (-) Terminals.

I know that Monday is supposed to be awful.  It’s hard to wake up.  It’s hard to move beyond a snail’s pace.  It’s the time for missing backpacks, shoes, and hair barrettes.  It’s Monday.  But why are my Mondays beyond awful? 

The day started off (of course) with oversleeping and having exactly 12 minutes to get an 11-year-old night owl/morning slug out of bed, dressed, fed, teeth brushed, and to the bus stop.  I cringed when he walked past me to the car and I noticed his grease slick hair.  I have to hound him to get in the shower and then to get out of the shower after 20 minutes and he still doesn’t manage to wash his hair.  He swears he washed his hair, and it turns out he did–with conditioner.  It’s too late to do anything about it so we go to the car.  Miraculously, we pulled up to the bus stop at exactly the moment the bus arrived. 

The other kids got up very well.  Bribing them with episodes of Spongebob Squarepants if they are completely dressed, shoes and backpack included, is immensely effective.  We leave in plenty of time, only to get halfway down the street when my son realizes he forgot his glasses.  Of course we have to go back, which makes us miss our stop.  Fortunately, there are two other bus stops 1/4 mile down the road.  So we head to the final stop before they miss the bus completely and I’ll have to go through 3 different car lines to drop them off, and the bus is already there.  At least 5 minutes early.  That irritates the crap out of me, so I start honking the horn and while the bus is making the turnaround, I position my giant Ford Expedition just enough in the way for the bus to have to stop.  Did I mention I was still in my nightgown?  Three embarrassed kids got on the bus while all the kids, the bus driver, and the bus driver trainee stared.  But hey, they caught the bus didn’t they?

The rest of the day followed its normal pattern of laundry, dishes, cleaning up Anna’s messes while she makes worse messes, and an added trip to the grocery store.  Since T-ball practice started that evening, I had made arrangements to eat out.  I thought I might even be able to convince Chris to take Billy and the rest of us wouldn’t have to go at all.  Then Chris calls at 5:00 and says his truck won’t start and that he wouldn’t be home in time to go at all.  Still not too bad.  It was 85 degrees and gorgeous and there was a good chance the sand gnats weren’t swarming yet. 

Then Chris calls at 6:00 and says I’ll have to go home, get a gas can and jumper cables and then drive the 30 minutes to where he’s stranded to try and get the truck started.  So at 6:45 I pull into the gas station and go in and get the kids something to drink and $15 in gas.  I go to fill up the gas can and the dumb gas pump works for about 2 seconds and cuts off.  I think it’s broken until I look at the meter thingy and it says $0.15.  Perfect.  Chris has been sitting on the side of the road for two hours and I have to go back in, stand in the insanely long line, and ask the cashier to give me $15 in gas, not $0.15.  When I’m walking back out to my car, I notice it leaning a little.  Why?  Because my tire was nearly flat.  That stupid tire has had a slow leak forever, but we never seem to remember to get a new one.  So now it’s 7:05 and I have to pay $0.75 for AIR, which seeps slooooowly into the tire.  I probably could’ve blown it up myself in half the time–for free. 

Driving 75-80 mph down I-95 gets me there in a very respectable 24 minutes where I have to turn onto the on ramp and do a U-Turn to get the front ends of the cars to line up, on a tiny shoulder.  Then Chris puts the gas in, operating under the assumption that the car cut off because of bad gas, and goes for the jumper cables which are ALWAYS in the back of my car.  Except for now.  He finds some old jumper cables that are missing one of the attachey things but luckily still has the bundle of rusty wires sticking out so that he can manually wrap them around the battery sticky up things.  We wait for 20 minutes, with five kids in the car, jumping around and making all the racket they can from the pure excitement of the whole thing.  Of course it’s all for nothing.  The truck is broken.  We’ll have to have it towed, which means Chris will have to call into work, I’ll have to drive him to the car, making it necessary to cancel the conference I had scheduled with Aidan’s teacher for the next morning, and the whole next day will begin out of whack. 

It’s after 8:00 when we leave the truck and go get dinner.  The kids get in the bed an hour past their bed time, which means it will be even harder to get them out of bed the next day. I sent an e-mail to Aidan’s teacher explaining the problem and asking to reschedule the conference for Thursday.  I got this reply:  “Good news.  It’s already scheduled for Thursday.”  Of course it is.

Monday is an awful way to spend 1/7th of your life.  ~Author Unknown

Interesting Tidbit:    While writing this blog, the wordpress platform makes suggestions for “tags” based on the article contents.  I usually choose the best ones.  I’m looking at them now and there are some really funny suggestions.  They are “Wrestlemania,” “Undertaker,” “Vince McMahon,” “Shawn Michaels,” and “World Wrestling Entertainment.”  I’m not sure that I wrote anything concerning wrestling (or wrastlin’) unless you count greasy hair and over-the-top melodrama.


4 thoughts on “More Monday Mania

  1. Maybe their suggestion is for you ~ the need to WORK off some of that frustration ~ Ever consider getting into the ring to work out some of that Frustration on Wrestlemania ?

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