I am a horrible person

Today has been a busy day. I helped with open house at preschool, which is never dull. I have been working off and on for them for 14 years, only really stopping when I was too great with child to walk or too busy nursing to be out among the living. I am currently on the sub list, but mostly just hang around because I can't quit it. It's a sisterhood of love. So I got to talk to excited little faces, tell weepy mothers facing leaving those faces for the first time that they are doing a good thing AAAANND alphabetize. I would catch myself singing not so quietly to myself the "Alphabet Song", only to look up and see moms slowly backing away from the crazy lady with the pen and binder. Don't worry, moms, I very occasionally sub. I work for the church mostly...wait, that probably worries them more. After a day of being on my feet and being peppy and showing some extra restraint for some who make things difficult, I left to go pick up the kids. I'm actually proud that I didn't fall into a drooling coma in the pickup line, only to be rudely awakened by an angry mom in a minivan laying on her horn. "SOUTH TO DROP OFF, MORON!!!!", a favorite line from "Mr. Mom", kept ringing in my ears:



I made it through the Friday pick up line without incident and managed to get a decent parking place across from middle school. I managed to avoid, yet again, the dreaded spot on the street where all the other moms cringe as they watch the poor sucker of a car get victimized by an oak tree sending a strong message in the form of machine gun acorns. After passing the time away waiting in the car with my friend, D, and her son and my children body slamming each other in the back of her van, we parted ways and escaped with children in the car right before the monsoons came. This was when you could hear lots of soccer moms everywhere go, "Keep it up. Do a Phil Collins and I "wish it would rain down..." for the next, oh, whatever period of time it take for them to determine that the fields are too soggy and they close the whole operation down for the day. Do my kids need to practice? Yes. Did I pay for them to play? Yes. Am I an awful person because now little soccer loving boys and girls might miss out on a positive and healthy bonding experience with other children and I don't feel too bad about it? Guilty. I'll tell you something else that you can just put in your file of "Jenny's Evil-File #17". When I got the text saying the fields were closed, I yelled down to the kids that they were off the hook for the night, kicked my cruddy soccer Chacos off, got the ipad, put my feet up and watched Mr. Rogers videos on youtube until the hub got home...and then he joined me. No lie. I love Mr. Rogers, but I digress. Go ahead. Condemn me. I deserve it, but it was a beautiful evening in our neighborhood...an not a soccer ball was used. And it was a good feeling...a very good feeling.
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