Where’s the damn folder?!


School started today.  woot. 

I refuse to comment about my first impressions about how this school year will go.  I am going to remain positive, steadfast, and treat advocating for my child as my second job (which pays in tokens of hope for his future, which doesn’t pay the light bill, but is priceless nonetheless).  I will remove the emotion and the taking-of-things personally.  That is all.  (Yeah, right).

Moving on.   

There’s nothing like the school year chaos to bring out how much of a scatter-brained fool I am.  Yesterday I brought Little B’s school folder with various papers that had to be filled out in time to send with him for his first day to work with me, and then time slipped by and I didn’t have time to fill it out, and then I drove home yesterday to pick up Big E to take him to his school to pick up his schedule, and realized that I left Little B’s folder on my desk.  So, I had to go all the way back downtown to pick it up before dark when all the drug addicts come out to play, and double back once again to get to Big E’s school.  Hours later, while filling out the paperwork late last night, Zohrhubby noticed the answering machine blinking, and played the message.  It was the school bus driver, calling to notify us that she will not be picking up Little A or Little B this year, as we live within one mile of the school.  (We haven’t moved, by the way).  I had already filled out Little B’s transportation card at school, and so I had to write a big note to his teacher to let her know that Big E will hopefully show up to walk Little B home from school today.  I put the folder and the note in Little B’s backpack and went to bed.  This morning, I had to wake my kids up like stair-steps.   Big E, up at 6:10 and out the door at 6:40.  Teen C up at 6:40 and out the door at 7:15.  Little B up at 7:15 and dressed, then Little A up at 7:30.  When we got ready to leave, I picked up Little B’s book sack and put his snack inside.  I noticed his school folder was missing.  “B!  Where’s your folder?”  “I don’t know,” he replied.  “I didn’t mess with anything.”  “B, you know we have to go, where did you put it?”  “Mom, I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

I knew I put it in the book sack.  I remembered thinking, “Okay, that’s done,” and zipping it closed.  Where was it?  How did this happen?  I looked around everywhere frantically and couldn’t find it.  So, I called Zohrhubby.  “Hey!  Did you take B’s folder out of his backpack?”  “Uh.  No.  Why would I do that?”  “I don’t have time to interpret random people’s motivations for you, I gotta go,” and I ended the call, then second guessed my use of the term “random” to describe a man with whom I am not only cohabitating and raising children with, but who I called. 

I stomped around the house like a crazy person several more times, wanting to pull my hair out.  “Where’s the damn folder?!  Where’s the damn folder?!  WHERE’S THE DAMN FOLDER?!”  (That was all in my head, by the way, because what was coming out of my mouth this whole time was “B, stop scaring the dog and put on your shoes.  A, get your butt in here and brush your teeth.  Daisy, go eat you are running out of time before I pick up your food!!!)

Then, in the midst of the chaos, a vision entered my head.  It was me, standing in my bedroom with a folder in my hand.  I placed it into a book sack and zipped it up.  Then, I put the book sack down on the floor, and I saw the book sack clearly in my mind.  It was Big E’s book sack.

By the time this vision came to me, Big E had long since gone to school.  I wrote another note to B’s teacher about the transportation issue, shoved it in his book sack, and apologized for doubting him when he said he didn’t take the folder.  “You found it?” he asked.  “No, I remembered what happened.  Mama accidentally put it in Bubba’s book sack.”  He slapped his hand against his forehead and said, “Why do you always forget stuff?!” 

Good question.  If the reason why I was so scattered were any clearer, it would be invisible. 

Have a great school year, dear readers.  And if you don’t have any kids in school this year, feel free to live vicariously through me.  Or physically through me.  Just come and get one.  I don’t care which one. 

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About zohrbak

Zohrbak is an old email username I had a while back...it's a made-up twist on two characters from Spaceghost. Zorak and Brak. I'm a geek. I am a married, working mother of 4 children, ages 4-15. I also have interests outside of my children, but I can never remember what they are.
This entry was posted in bad kids, Bad mother, crazy kids, Family, Humor, Parenthood, School, The Joys of Parenthood and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Where’s the damn folder?!

  1. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That was freakin hilarious.

    I still have 7 days til the chaos begins at my house.

    🙂

  2. Miz Tiz says:

    I swear my mother wrote this. That was the story of my childhood. Hope the year goes great!

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