On the way to pick up Cooper from school yesterday, Dorothy and I ran by the grocery store to get vinegar because my coffee pot claimed that it needed to be clean. We literally ran, too, because my morning online grading and household chores sucked up way more time than I thought they would (ALWAYS), and we only had like 12 minutes to spare-- doable because there is a really gross filthy grocery store on the way to preschool.
Dorothy refused (REFUSED) to ride in the cart, but she also didn't want to walk, so I carried her and my giant purse and snagged a big bottle of vinegar, some peppermint Oreos that she wanted on an end cap (couldn't say no because then she would have freaked out, and I could barely carry her upright with my huge bag and my huge vinegar-- carrying a squalling mess was not really an option. Plus, she carried the Oreos with the cutest little satisfied smile). Then, on our way to the register, I saw a 42-oz, party-size bag of M&Ms on sale for like $8, so I grabbed it, too, because Cooper requests no fewer than 5 M&Ms every time he pees in the potty. And I am a huge sucker. (SO WEIRD THAT HE HAD A CAVITY).
I almost killed myself wrangling all that shit to the self-check out, which, miraculously, did not break or demand that I get help (THAT NEVER HAPPENS). Dorothy licked a magazine rack, tough, when I put her down to scan groceries, so that was terrible. Remind me of this when she is sick in 3 days.
We made it to Cooper's school with seconds to spare, and Cooper's teacher told me that they played with shaving cream, which was why Cooper smelled like a man. So of course I had to smell him-- man is a good scent for him-- and I put Dorothy down only to immediately lose her on the playground.
She was going down the "weee" (slide) and, as you can imagine, did not want to stop. But she had to stop because Cooper's school has the tiniest, most steeply angled parking lot in the universe, and pick-up and drop-off times are carefully staggered to accommodate traffic flow, and there is no lingering.
Cooper is generally whiny when I pick him up, and Dorothy-- even when she is not livid about playground interruption-- is ready for nap and kind of pissy, too, and yesterday was no exception. They both noticed the huge bag on M&Ms on the floor by Dorothy's seat, so of course I chose the path of least resistance and opened it up and gave them some. Anything to quell the screaming.
As I was pulling out of Cooper's school's parking lot-- always a harrowing experience because of the angles and the huge, huge, how-do-they-even-fit-that-in-their-damn-garages SUVs-- I heard the M&Ms spill. 42 ounces, all over the back of my freaking minivan. I pulled into a gas station parking lots as soon as I was able and salvaged what I could because we need those potty-training bribe M&Ms if Cooper is ever going to stop shitting in his pants (doubtful) and I almost threw my back out and sweated through my coat to buy them. But, because I am such a fat bastard, I ate a few off the car floor while I was cleaning up, and OH MY GOD DISGUSTING. I got some dog hair and some playground tires and God only knows what else. Not food. That's for sure.
After I wiped my tongue on my shirt a hundred times (I am so mature) and turned the car toward home and sweet, sweet nap time, I asked Dorothy if she still had her bow in her hair. As soon I asked the question, I glanced in the mirror and noticed that she did have it in. Then she reached up, yanked it out, threw it on the floor, looked right at me and said, "No. No bow bow. Huh-uh." She's a sweet one.