I took Mark to his first day of a home school P.E. program that I had signed him up for at the YMCA. It is two hours long, once a week. I set up a meeting during it with the primary president from a different ward. They have stuff in a closet and it's our closet. (I have the key!) Closet space is a golden ticket to happiness. At home and at church.
I also had a list of errands to knock out while I was footloose and fancy free.
We got to the YMCA and learned that parents have to stay there.
Rats.
I hurriedly called the other primary president to tell her I had to cancel and I grabbed a book out of my car so I could read.
(Having a book with you at all times is a golden ticket to happiness.)
My errands didn't get done.
Mark started in the pool and swam for an hour then got changed and went to the gym for the second hour. After swimming he came dripping to the lobby to find me and tell me that he'd lost his t-shirt. I went into the room with the pool and found it where he'd left it, right next to his backpack. His flip flops were there too. Then we saw a guy carrying Mark's goggles to go turn them into lost and found.
(Is this why they don't let parents leave them behind?)
As I was walking Mark to the gym, he informed me that he'd forgotten underwear. (He had worn his swimsuit to the pool.) There was nothing we could do about that.
He had a good time and told me all about it on the way home. We saw Emma and her friend Hannah walking home from the bus so we stopped to give them a ride. Emma got in the front. (Shotgun is a golden ticket of happiness for that one.) Hannah got in the back with Mark.
Mark told her he had no underwear on.
Hannah said, "OK then."
"Mark!" I exclaimed, "Too much information. You don't need to tell people that."
(sorry Hannah)
Later I told Janet this story and she asked me if it was going to end up on my blog. I said no. Then here it is. It's a mystery where Mark inherited his over sharing.
I had a hair appointment and Megan--with the amazing and mysterious blow drying skills--styled my hair into smooth waves. (Something I have neither the ability or willingness to devote time to.) I like having her transform me for a day.
Last night we went to Back to School Night at Braeden's school. The evening started with a meeting in the gym. First, Janet and I were reprimanded for not finding a seat quickly enough by the principal (fondly known in our house as Papa Bear). Then Papa Bear gave all the parents a little speech with parenting advice. Things like: always know where your kids are and who they're with. Whoa! This is good stuff! I should be writing this down!
(Sorry, Papa Bear. I guess I outgrew principal lectures about the same time I outgrew caring about tardy policies.)
Adam stayed in the commons during the speech because he's rebellious like that. Someone approached him and asked him if he was there representing ROTC. He told them to start doing pushups. (He didn't really but that would have been funny, don't you think?)
We then had to follow our students' schedule. I think Michelle Obama would be proud of Braeden's schedule and it's contribution to fighting childhood obesity.
Sheesh.
We started on the 3rd floor then went to the first floor on the other side of the building then back to the 3rd floor. Up and down, back and forth. No wonder they have tardy policies.
That was the least intimidating part of the schedule though. That kid has some challenging classes. I hope some sort of Freaky-Friday-you-have-to-trade-places-with-your-teenager doesn't happen. I feel like I should step up the lunches I pack for him.
We sat by Jill during AP World History. I asked a question that Adam thought was embarrassing. Jill wrote "Cute Hair" on my paper with her red pen. (Because we're good girls and don't talk in class.) Then my pen died and Jill gave me her red pen and fished another out of her bag. (Good friends with extra pens are a golden ticket to happiness.)
All my notes were written with Jill's red pen so at the end of the evening, Adam saw "Cute Hair" written on my paper and he wondered which teacher I had written that about. And probably more importantly, why I felt compelled to do so. I explained Jill had written it, about my--you know--cute hair.
Speaking of my cute hair, when I said goodnight to Braeden after giving him all my opinions about his teachers (and their cute hair), Braeden said, "I can't get used to you with your hair like that."
I said, "Don't worry. It will be back to curly tomorrow."
Mark said, "How much does it cost to have your hair done like that?"
I asked him why he wanted to know.
He said, "Because if it only lasts one day, you can save your money. I could do that for free."
3 comments:
This was so funny. Do you have to go to PE every time?
Your blog post triggered my netnanny filter. Scandalous. It must have been the part about Mark's underwear. :) Glad to know it's doing it's job. I have to say though, I really like Papa Bear's sermons. I agree with what he's saying so wholeheartedly that I knod my head and have to restrain myself from shouting, "Amen" at choice moments. I *heart* Papa Bear, even if he gets mad at me for not finding a seat fast enough. :)
I left my comment, but it's not showing up. I've missed your blog. It's great to be back on the internet.
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