Fulfilling My Motherly Obligations

Last night was Open House at my kid's school. In the world I covet, I'd whine about what a difficult week it's been and how much my head aches, thereby inspiring ever-loving (yet studly) superhusband to croon, "Oh, honey, I know what a demanding job you have. You deserve some time for yourself. Let me take the kid to Open House!"

In the actual world there is no husband, super-, ex- or otherwise. Everything that gets done for (or to!) the kid gets done by MOI.

At first I thought I had an out. The kid, who despises school, ranted about how bitterly he resented being asked to return to school that evening. How dare they cut into his time???

"What were you planning to do tonight instead?" I ventured.

"WATCH TV!!!!"

And for a few sweet moments I harbored the notion of staying home to rest my weary head and feed the kid's unwholesome addiction. Before long, alas, the familiar Irish Catholic guilt infiltrated my fantasy. I agreed to allow the kid to haul the contents of his bedroom to Open House so he could show off his bribes from his unscrupulous mother.

Somehow, as we were loading up the Open House-bound Honda, the Chihuahua escaped, frolicking joyfully into a copious stream of detoured minivans from the nearby Rec Center. The kid dashed out into the traffic to save the Chihuahua. Horns honked, vans veered, tires screeched, but my Holy Basil prevailed. (See yesterday's post.) I just stood alongside the road, smiling meekly, taking it all in, realizing that postponement of the trip to Open House could be mutually beneficial.

Eventually the dog was captured and restrained, as was the kid, and we proceeded down the main thoroughfare bisecting our fair city. Little did I know that we would have been better off walking the 4 miles rather than driving. The road was under construction, to put it mildly. Only one narrow lane was open AND my car was in the unfortunate shadow of a city bus. I am all for mass transit except when I'm positioned behind it.

We crept along at a pace of, oh, about a mile every couple of hours. My Holy Basil stupor prevented me from ditching the car and boarding the bus, which would have eliminated our next hurdle.

When we FINALLY made it to school, lo and behold, there was nowhere to park, not even in the surrounding neighborhood. I drove around in circles, half praying, half praising, not quite sure what I hoped for, until finally the child looked up from his hand-held video game bribe and moaned, "Mama, we've been in this car too long! My butt is numb!!!"

I circled the school three more times and finally threw my hands up in the air, exclaiming,"It's 9:00!!! Open House is over!!!!"