My little blog is growing up!!! Sniffle Sniffle Tear! This is Herd Management’s first Guest Post, and it was written by a hilarious friend of mine, Trish, whom I know through Twitter and our mutual obsession with the Outlander Series by Diana Gabaldon. If you haven’t read Outlander…. Well that’s very sad and we need to fix that. But without further ado, here is Trish’s account of her absolutely mortifying Mommy Morning.
Ok, two things by way of introduction; I’m a very absent-minded Mommy, and I’m not a morning person. Consequently, the 5 minutes before walking out the door in the morning tend to be rather chaotic and stressful. This morning, I was dressed for the Spring-like weather in a long flowy skirt, cami/cardi combo and lightweight cropped jacket. As I stepped out the front door, toddler on hip (he’s a runner), I went to take a step and… I couldn’t.
Cue panic as I looked down to find said long, flowy skirt stuck in the front door. And no amount of tugging was going to get it loose. Cue horrified panic as I processed that my keys were in the car I had started 10 minutes before. Status at this point: door locked, keys in car ignition, toddler in arms, bus arriving any minute at the crowded bus stop two doors away.
I attempted to talk my 6yo (T) through turning the car off and removing the key from the ignition. You know that stupid half-on place in the ignition where the lights and the radio work, but the engine isn’t on? Yeah, he couldn’t get it past that. “T, turn the key toward the BACK of the car.” Car restarted. “No, the BACK of the car.” Car turned off, but keys weren’t coming out. “Further toward the back!” After he managed to turn the engine off and on three times but have no luck removing the key, he was upset and I was rapidly approaching the only possible solution to my dilemma.
Calling him over, I placed my toddler (L) on the front stoop and instructed T to hold his hand and walk him down to the car. I then shimmied out of my skirt and ran to the car grabbed the keys, ran back, opened the door, and dashed inside.
Did I mention the no-panty-line grannie panties I was wearing today? No? Well, that should complete the picture; cropped bright green jacket, knee-high black boots and grannie panties, dashing across the front of my house to the car and back, in plain view of the crowded bus stop, tugging down my cami and willing it to lengthen the whole time. The stuff of sitcom dreams, my pre-coffee self.
I emerged from the house, skirt back on, disheveled, face flaming, to see T, attempting to drag his little brother out of the mud by his hood. And completely flipped my lid. Tears of frustration in my eyes, freaking out, also in the middle of the driveway two doors from the bus stop. And the poor kid had honestly only been trying to help. The icing on the crappy cake that was my Mortified Morning.
We made it just in time for the bus. I did NOT get out of the car at the corner. My DH waited until I gave him my blessing to laugh hysterically at me when I called and told him what happened. And my big kid is getting car key lessons and a lot of extra snuggles tonight. Because the presence of Monstrous, Mortified Mommy brought down a wrath he did not deserve this morning. And, hopefully, we will laugh. Because, now, I can admit it was pretty funny to everyone but me!