This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I am not always the most prepared mother. More often than not, I'm the mom scrambling to find the last 2 socks, matching or otherwise, on the way out the door. I'm the one who frantically signs permission slips with a crayon, on the way out the door. The one who, on the way out the door, has to go back 3-5 times to grab forgotten keys, glasses, money, brains...
So when the downpour started this morning just in time for school drop-off, I was sitting a little straighter in the car, knowing that even though I hadn't bought Ryan a raincoat since she was 4, I was still prepared with my ever-ready car umbrella.
The one I forgot was broken and doesn't open all the way.
So you can imagine the look of death Ryan threw my way as she crouched under the half-opened, jimmy-rigged umbrella, tilting her head to the side to avoid the eyeball hazard jutting out in front of her. As a 5th grade safety patrol kid looked on.
Therein lies the problem. Not that the umbrella is a piece of crap that offers her limited protection, but that she was seen holding it by someone other than an immediate family member.
At least, that's what I'm assuming the eye-rolling,hair-flipping silent response to my "Love you!" meant. Unless it meant, "Woman, you are the worst mother ever. Get off your dead ass and spring for a raincoat, or at least an umbrella that opens all the way." Yeah. That could be it.
The Boarding House by The Pioneer Woman
3 days ago