When you put stress, spit up and hair gel together, it makes for quite a comedy. As always, I rose early this morning, pulled on my jeans and a t-shirt and meandered to the kitchen, rubbing my face and wondering how it takes mere seconds for morning to arrive, but hours to get through a line at Target.
Catherine had an appointment this morning and so, after starting the coffee, I made certain she and Liam were awake. I rushed back downstairs to feed the cats, gave one of them his heart and diabetes meds, and jammed five rollers of varying colors and sizes in my hair and slid some hair gel over each one (I take my showers at night, by the way - it makes it easier in the morning).
I brushed my teeth, poured myself a cup of coffee and took Liam in to visit with Poppy while we waited for Catherine to do whatever it is she does in the mornings (another thing that takes so long, that the waiting is more painful than getting a root canal). Finally, we were in the car and off.
Catherine's appointment took longer than anticipated and Liam was screaming in the back seat. I climbed into the back and we played all kinds of games. I showed him pictures from my Tea Time magazine, and he especially liked the raspberry tea-infused sorbet on the cover. We went back to that particular photo three times. When he grew tired of that, I hopped out of the back and we drove off - around and around the block, music playing, Grammy singing and/or pleading, Liam screaming. Mommy had mistakenly taken his bottle in with her and it was laying, or should I say hiding, at the bottom of her purse. Frantic and futile searches for the bottle in the car finally forced me to rev the engine and go.
Grammy drives very carefully but likes to hug the corners when Liam is upset. It seems to quiet him when I hug them at 25+ mph. I have also developed a tactic whereby I quickly turn the steering wheel back and forth when I'm doing a straight shot down the street. I never leave my lane, but it causes a rocking sensation in the car that Liam enjoys. I am always cautious.
The security officer of the building I was circling told Catherine, "Your mom drives like a Naaaaas-car driver. The way she hugs those corners and keeps on goin', and what is that maneuver with the car all in motion like that? She is somethin'!" Good thing she told me that when she did. Because I was already going to be late for work and had a few things on my mind about being prepared to go early and not waiting for me to call her before she decides to get out of bed.
Zipping home (at the speed limit), I pulled into the driveway and ran into the house. Running down the hall, I flung off my T-shirt and ran into the bedroom. I fell onto the bed, trying to kick off my jeans. Finally, I flung open the closet doors, threw on some office clothes, ripped out the curlers, fluffed my hair with my fingers, and ran out to give Liam a kiss good bye. Makeup was going to have to be donned at red lights. When I picked him up to smooch him, he belched and with it, came some of his bottle that he had on the way home. I placed the little man back into his mother's arms and ran back down the hall, yanking off my office shirt and throwing it into the laundry room.
After donning a new shirt, I blew a kiss and ran out the door without my glasses. Racing back in, I searched frantically for my glasses. My husband stepped back and pinned himself against a wall as I ran to and fro and whispered, "This is too much...too much...too.....much."
I found my glasses in the purse that was on my arm, and kissed my husband as he chanted, "Go, go, go.....you can make it...Go..."
I made it to work four minutes late, with a red curler in the back of my head.
Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma
