That thing where you read the email from the kid’s kindergarten teacher that you have to turn in “family box” items TODAY, 7 minutes before your kid leaves the house. And you, swearing and cursing your lot in life, start maniacally culling pics from your instagram and sending them to the printer, only the printer jams, because of course, and you are shouting at your oldest to bring you a lego piece, ANY LEGO PIECE, to stick in the bag, only he brings you a special piece so you send him back to find a shitty piece, one that no one cares about, something his baby brother can glue to a box that represents his family. And then you’re thinking while running up the stairs with scissors in your hand to retrieve the precious printed photos, that the kids like sparklers, and there are some on the back table, and is it illegal to send your child to school with a sparkler? I mean, it’s not like he can light it with his mind or anything. Is that my period? Am I starting my period right now? That seems early. Make note to go to bathroom once kids are safely in car with precious family items that reflect our love and values. And as you crest the stairs you realize the fucking printer is jammed because PC LOAD LETTER it’s Wednesday! And girl you are going to get through this. SO you shout to your youngest, who is still not eating his breakfast, to find some art supplies, any art supplies, the ones in that bowl in the thing that we were using the other day, because that shows that our family likes to do art, and you have to go, and it’s family box day, so please for the love of everything that is holy learn to put your socks and shoes on by yourself right now, and I swear to god I will volunteer at a soup kitchen for thanksgiving. The whole family will! We’ll all do it! Because that’s the kind of family we are. Can I send him with one of those union rescue mission flyers? Have those started filling my mail box yet? He won’t know what it is, but he’s five. He’ll just glue it on there and his teacher will be like “awwww, being of service is a thing in their family!”. Fucking paper jam. It’s ok, you’ve got pictures of him at the beach with his bestie and him in an elephant costume with his brother, he doesn’t need a picture with his parents. Maybe she’ll think he’s like one of those tv kids who lives in a penthouse with a bunch of other kids and a nanny (because the picture of the babysitter printed because of course) and no parents. Fine. We’ll remain a mystery. Maybe it’s better that way.
Ziplock bag Contents (minus unfinished lego set with instructions that you had to dump on bed because we don’t have any empty ziplock bags because why would we have anything useful at all in this house?!)
6 pictures of child with friends, babysitter, and giant bear
one red lego square
one disneyland button that says “I’m celebrating” with Goofy’s face on it.
17 assorted googly eyes, assorted gems, sequins, and one ironman cutout (this probably banned from school property because violence on tv)
1 glitter star
1 untracked glow stick, size skinny
1 curious george reading a book image cut out from his (and previously older brother’s) crib sheet used for preschool naps. This contains the tears of youngest that it was cut out even as you explain that there is a lot more sheet and you were planning to cut it up to make a quilt anyway and please stop crying and I love you and have a great day and bye daddy, sorry.
I'm already 2 hours removed from the event and I've tricked myself into believing that it wasn't really that bad. But I'm going to watch this video on loop today just to remember.