Get your goldbricking ass out of my beach community!
Fact the first: We -- Kid Gleemonex and I -- have missed the Flag Salute portion of the school day thrice in twelve days of school. This is where the whole school, K-5, stands out in the baking sun-drenched playground and does the PledgeAllegiance, then the principal in his hilaaaarious Californian voice wishes us all a great day here at San Dimas Elementary and the kids go in their classes & parents off to work/brunch/Yogilates, whatever.
Fact the second: I'm surprised it's only been just the three times so far. This thing where I'm always runnin' for it is a lifelong failing of mine; despite my everlasting best efforts, the kids're probably just gonna have to get used to it. There are people who get really shirty about other people being late -- like blah blah blah respect my time, *I* got here on time and the fact that you didn't means that you are a fucking wino hobo BUM, yada yada -- and that is just a world, like Bronys or birthers or Louis Quatorze furniture miniatures, that I will never be a part of. SORRY I'M LATE BUT I'M TRYING GODDAMMIT.
Fact the third: We were on time today! It was awesome! The crossing guards didn't get to make fun of us like they usually do!
And finally, Question Pertaining to the Facts: As we're nearing my secret ninja parking spot, we pass these knots of parents and kids on the sidewalk by the school, and y'all -- these moms. These moms with the cute maxi dresses, mani-pedis that are detectable even from the window of my hi-tone hoopty wagon at 25 MPH, the kind of sandals that look casual but cost $150, they hair done, they makeup on, walking with two or three kids (WALKING, because they don't have to run for it because they're on time, just like they are every day) and I. d.o. not. HOW ARE THEY DOING THIS? What the fuck time do they get up? How do they get the kids up and fed and toothbrushed and hairbrushed and uniformed and socked and shoed and sunscreened and out the godDAMnFUCKing DOOR with all their shit and into the car and strapped in and ALSO their own toothbrushing/mani-pedi/hairdo/cute maxi/makeup? The hem on my brain has fallen out so many times I can't even patch it with Wonder Under anymore -- and I've only got the one school-age kid (plus a very compliant, morning-happy toddler), a three-minute drive to school, and a choice of two (2) gym outfits to yank on before I crank up the morning machine. What the gobstopping fuck, y'all?
Fact the second: I'm surprised it's only been just the three times so far. This thing where I'm always runnin' for it is a lifelong failing of mine; despite my everlasting best efforts, the kids're probably just gonna have to get used to it. There are people who get really shirty about other people being late -- like blah blah blah respect my time, *I* got here on time and the fact that you didn't means that you are a fucking wino hobo BUM, yada yada -- and that is just a world, like Bronys or birthers or Louis Quatorze furniture miniatures, that I will never be a part of. SORRY I'M LATE BUT I'M TRYING GODDAMMIT.
Fact the third: We were on time today! It was awesome! The crossing guards didn't get to make fun of us like they usually do!
And finally, Question Pertaining to the Facts: As we're nearing my secret ninja parking spot, we pass these knots of parents and kids on the sidewalk by the school, and y'all -- these moms. These moms with the cute maxi dresses, mani-pedis that are detectable even from the window of my hi-tone hoopty wagon at 25 MPH, the kind of sandals that look casual but cost $150, they hair done, they makeup on, walking with two or three kids (WALKING, because they don't have to run for it because they're on time, just like they are every day) and I. d.o. not. HOW ARE THEY DOING THIS? What the fuck time do they get up? How do they get the kids up and fed and toothbrushed and hairbrushed and uniformed and socked and shoed and sunscreened and out the godDAMnFUCKing DOOR with all their shit and into the car and strapped in and ALSO their own toothbrushing/mani-pedi/hairdo/cute maxi/makeup? The hem on my brain has fallen out so many times I can't even patch it with Wonder Under anymore -- and I've only got the one school-age kid (plus a very compliant, morning-happy toddler), a three-minute drive to school, and a choice of two (2) gym outfits to yank on before I crank up the morning machine. What the gobstopping fuck, y'all?
Labels: balls o'clock a.m., caffeine - cocaine - what's the diff, cryin' amazacrazy, demoralizing confessions, The Californians, where is my mind? waaay out there on the water -- see it swimming
posted by Gleemonex at 1:02 PM
5 Comments:
I am so pleased to hear that someone else is always running late. I mean, you seem like a smart, confident person who has her shit together -- not her morning manicure shit, sure, but that's some truly lesser shit.
Wait I mean
LAMBORGHINI DIABLO
Well, I certainly do have my LAMBORGHINI DIABLO together, if that's what you mean.
I'm really truly dead right now.
Clearly they're on meth. I do throw on a tie now and then, but I wear khakis until the outline of my phone shows on the pocket.
Ha! You and I would get along fine IRL, Guinness my friend. :-)
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