My alarm clock (sheesh!) did not go off this morning. My eyes were treated to some fabulous green numbers when they first opened: 6:57. That’s a fair number, for say, a Saturday, but not for a Friday! Big E catches the bus at 6:40 (do the math), and the other three catch the bus at 7:15. Little B had some unfinished cut-n-paste business to take care of involving pictures of things that start with the “esss” sound, and it was “Geek Day” at Tween C’s school.
I had to make Zohrhubby get up and help me with the mess my alarm clock caused. It could have been my fault, as I did not have time in this morning’s commotion to check to see if the alarm was actually set, but either way, I’ll lodge a new complaint against the GodForsaken Sony Dream Machine: there’s too many little green dots on the face of the clock for me to tell whether the freaking alarm is set or not, when I double-guess myself twenty minutes after I’ve laid down. There’s one for a.m., one for p.m., one for the GPS time correction feature (whatever the hell THAT means), one for the alarm being “engaged” and one more that I can’t quite figure out that is always on so doesn’t mean a whole lotta anything at all, in my opinion.
I’ll pause a moment so that you can bask in my having committing yet another offense against the English language in the form of a run-on sentence, which my grammar checker will surely balk at, but I shall dismiss, once again.
Since it’s Friday, and I’ve gone nearly five days with hit-and-miss attempts at keeping kids in uniforms all week by washing ad-hoc loads of clothes, I had to scrounge together outfits for everyone, get Little sleepy B on board with the cut-n-paste duties, and sneak the “Cheezits” in his bag as his snack because he’d have become “unglued” (no pun intended) if he’d have seen that I forgot to buy a new kind of snack for him yesterday. Tween C managed, almost too easily, to fill the “Geek” role this morning because she didn’t have to bother brushing her hair. Little A wasn’t pleased with the outfit I had for her, and insisted on another pair of pants (which were still in the hamper), so I had to reason with her to get her to accept the fact that she is only 4 and I am 32 years older than her and I have the last word on what she will and will not wear on any given day. In this case, it was the pair of pants that I stayed up an extra 30 minutes for the night before to make sure were clean and in the dryer before going to bed, which may have been partly to blame for the fix we all found ourselves in this morning.
Zohrhubby had to drive Big E to school, because I had to get in the shower, but tried to refuse my request. “I don’t know where to bring him!” To which I responded, “Well, it’s about time you learned. I think you’re nearly 16 year old son can direct you to his school.” I know, I know. That’s a lot to ask. They don’t even speak to one another, directly, unless there’s no one around to talk through. Even then, they probably just go silent.
Anyway, I managed to get to work on time, and all the kids got to school, in spite of that damn Sony Dream Machine. I’m going to have to send a copy of these posts about how crappy it is to Sony.
At least my coffee was ready when I got up. Too bad I didn’t have time to have any. Damn you, Sony!