Since I had to take Ella to the ER on Monday morning, Tate was in charge of taking Carson to school.
I had very little time to explain how the morning should play out. Quickly I showed Tate what to fix Carson for lunch and what containers to pack them in and where the lunchbox could be found. I rattled off what time to wake him up, what he should wear (A JACKET!! TENNIS SHOES! NOT his Crocs!!), and how much milk to pour into his cup. As I was running out the door carrying Ella, I remembered that I hadn’t explained the rules of the drop off line, realizing I should have spent more time on this most important of school rituals versus how much milk to pour for Carson.
See here’s the thing about school drop off. There are rules, rules that are in place for a good reason. When everyone follows the rules, the line moves smoothly, the children (THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!) are safer, and _I_ am happier. Which is vitally important. Yes it is.
I get a bee in my bonnet nearly every Monday and Wednesday morning when I witness blatant disregard for these drop off rules which I KNOW were explained to every parent at orientation. These weasel parents try to cut in line, they park in the spots right beside the drop-off line when there are specially designated spots (who doesn’t like SPECIAL SPOTS??!!), and then they dangerously walk their kids between the cars in line. They are lucky I haven’t “accidentally” run them over.
So I tried to hit the high points of the most important rules for Tate so that he wouldn’t be the subject of a future blog post titled, “Weasel Parents named Tate who screw up in the drop off line.” He assured me that he understood.
“How did drop off go? Did you remember to unbuckle Carson before getting in line? Did he have his lunch box when he got out of the car? Did you FOLLOW THE RULES I LAID OUT FOR YOU?!” I calmly asked.
“Oh man. It was…not good,” I could hear the trepidation in his voice. “I drove up on the curb, other parents were flipping me the bird, I had to do a 180 right there in the drop off line. You are probably never going be able to show your face again up at the school,” it was evident that he was trying to suppress a laugh.
“So it went fine, didn’t it,” I asked.
“Of course it did,” Tate said, though I thought I heard him mutter at the end, “Control Freak.”
I probably deserved it.
(It took every ounce of self-control not to chastise Tate when I found out he sent fruit snacks (I KNOW! FRUIT SNACKS??) in Carson’s lunch. Those were not on the “approved items for lunch packing” list I rattled off to him that morning. He should know that I only allow the children to eat crap like that when nobody is looking, I send the healthy stuff to school.)
Ella is doing much better, thanks to you all for your kind words, thoughts, and prayers here, on Facebook, and Flickr.