Had that dream this morning– the one where you get up, get in the shower, start breakfast. Everything normal, even the laundry is where you left it on the table. And then, you really wake up. And it’s been 45 minutes since your alarm went off. And you shout obscenities and throw yourself at the shower, because it’s the one day you have an outside meeting, and you have to find some un-embarrasing pants. And that can take a minute or two.
And your daughter, she wants to wear spooky socks. But mom? Not THOSE spooky socks. Those have SPIDERS on them, see? Not spooky. She needs the green ones with TWELVE PUMPKINS on them. TWELVE! She’s holding one green sock, and the other? Well, anywhere. Your guess is as good as mine. But miraculously, you find it, in the bottom of the clean laundry. And honestly, if you’d found it in the bottom of the dirty laundry? Same result. Here’s your sock. Please put it on. PLEASE. PUT IT– hand the marker to me, please– ON. And we have socks.
And then, shit, it’s picture day at school. Let’s have a look at you… bedhead, weird black and white hoodie and too-big pink cords, and the aforementioned bright green and orange spooky socks with TWELVE PUMPKINS. And you know the photographer brings “fancy clothes” for the kids, but last year the proofs of your simple girl looked like “trailer park pageant princess,” dress too big and outdated, ruffly, falling off her shoulder. You know you’re not buying photos anyway. But you dig around in the closet and find her pink and brown polka dot dress from your cousin’s wedding, shove it in her bag, along with the Morningstar nuggets you’ll be sending for lunch for the third day this week.
And we’re off.