Winter came to our neck of the woods last week. And while it only hung around for thirty-six hours, it was long enough to cause major drama in our household.
I loaded the kids into the car to take Zoey to preschool. As usual, we were running late. As I was filling the car with gas, I thought to myself, Damn! It's cold today! I looked at Zoey. She should probably be wearing a hat.
And gloves.
And a heavier jacket.
I suck (Admission: The Weather Channel, weather forecasts, and the like do not exist in my world. I hardly ever check the weather forecast. As a result, I am often dressed improperly for the weather. And so are my kids.).
Since we were about seven miles from home and school started in five minutes, I began rummaging through the car looking for warm clothing for my daughter. I found one pink mitten, but unless she was going to pull a Michael Jackson, it wouldn't have been much use. I found a pair of Ella's gloves and tried to talk Zoey into wearing them, but they were way too big. Damn!
I got back into the car, arguing with myself the whole way to preschool.
She'll be ok. It's not that cold.
Are you insane? It's thirty degrees outside!
She'll never wear a hat anyway. It'll mess up her hair.
But she needs a hat!
And so on and so forth. You don't need friends when you've got several voices inside your head to keep you company.
Anyway...
I pulled into the parking lot at Zoey's preschool. I started looking through the trunk once again (Admission: My automobile looks like someone lives in it, so it wasn't outside the realm of possibility to find a hat in there. Or a pair of gloves. Or human remains.). Finally, I found a hat!
Unfortunately, it was Zed's hat. It was blue (a big turnoff to Ms. Pink) with blue spikes coming out of the top (another turnoff). And of course, it was too small. Did this stop me from trying to force it on her head? HELL NO!
Amidst the tears, the screaming, and the struggling, I tried to make it fit her head. Despite the fact that it didn't even come down to her ears, a very small part of me thought that it would suffice, if just for that day. But I knew deep down she needed a hat that fit. So we went shopping!
I stopped at a drugstore (Yeah, I know. Shut up! Desperate times, people!). "Do you have hats for big people?" Because in a crisis, I lose the ability to communicate with others.
"Um, no." the clerk replied.
"How about hats for little people?"
"Kids?"
"Yes!"
"No."
"Do you know anywhere that might?"
"Family Dollar."
"Cool!"
I loaded the kids back in the car. Zed was screaming at this point because he's not too fond of the whole in-out-in-out car shuffle without having a chance to walk around somewhere. Tires screeching, we pulled into Family Dollar.
When Zoey came out of the car, she hit her head on the door and began crying. Zed started crying again because I wouldn't let him walk into the store. We went up to the register. "Do you have hats for kids?" See, I can learn from my mistakes!
"Sure."
"Um, where are they?"
"All over the store. You just have to look."
"Thanks. Is there one location that I might find more hats than in other locations?" Twenty seconds into the conversation and I was already tired of dealing with this bitch.
"No. You just have to look."
So I aimlessly wandered the store until I found the clothing section (where we found many, many, MANY hats!). I found a perfect little pink toboggan (for my Canadian readers: a toboggan is a knit cap) for Zoey. Since she needed to try it on, I put Zed on the floor. Of course, he took off like a bat out of hell. I chased him down, brought him back, and tried putting the toboggan on Zoey's head with one hand.
Guess what? Can't be done. Try it yourself.
So I had to put Zed back on the floor and he proceeded to run away once again. My children had stopped crying but I was ready to do enough crying for the three of us.
I brought Zed back to the hat display. I held him with my legs and put the toboggan on Zoey's head. Perfect fit! We walked back to the register.
"Will this be all?"
"Yes."
"You know, your boy really needs a hat too."
"Sorry, we can only afford one hat this week. Hopefully next time." If people are going to say bitchy, finger-wagging things to you, the least you can do is make up a lie and make them feel like crap.
I paid for the hat, put the kids in the car, and pulled into the school just as they were closing the gate (you're allowed to drop your kid off fifteen minutes after school begins). Success! Zed and I went home and had a beer, both of us severely stressed out from that morning's events.
When I picked Zoey up from school that afternoon, I learned that Zoey's teachers didn't even make her wear the damn hat when she went outside for recess. Figures.
GHS: 6
Further Proof My Children Would Be Better Off If They Were Raised By Wolves
