Grab your coffee quickly; I’m leading with the best part today.
Recently, while in the bathroom at school, a piece of toilet paper managed to adhere itself to my shoe. For the record, I’m confident the toilet paper did not belong to me.
I really don’t want to know its origins.
(I know; I’ve just given out way too much completely necessary information.)
Anyway, my colleague saved me from surefire embarrassment by notifying me of my attachment right as I was exiting the water closet. As a high school teacher, recovery from such a misadventure would be nigh impossible.
I will now love her forever.
(Although she may have killed what would have been a great story, as one can only imagine the sequence of events that would have occurred had I stepped back into my classroom with my shoe thus embellished. The moment could have gone head-to-head with my embarrassing moment at the bank, for instance.)
In much more exciting news, I won a giveaway from Modern Mia Gardening! I’ve mentioned my ignominious past in the world of vegetation, it’s true, but years ago, the blog hooked me with its tagline: My valiant experiment with growing vegetables and getting my children to eat them. Anyway, Mia’s sweet children (a.k.a. the Wonder Kids) drew my name as one of the winners, and they sent me a bag (decorated by said children) filled with everything from beans to forget-me-nots. Because I like to live in irony, I got the idea to plant the forget-me-nots in this special little spot of ugliness near one corner of my house, and now I keep forgetting that I need to water that previously ignored spot of the yard.
This last Mother’s Day was nice; among other things, Baby-Girl put together a book complete with coupons for things like cleaning the bathroom and organizing “anything you want.” Wonder what she’ll say when I hand her the house.
My younger two children had field day last week. When I arrived, I found Baby-Girl and her cohorts actually sunning their little selves and trying to stay dry while the other kids competed on the slip-and-slide. I was a little taken aback initially, as this seemed out of character for her, but later she confided in me that she was only struck diva out of sympathy for an injured friend. And her commiseration only lasted so long; a few minutes later she caved and ran through the slip-and-slide. My son, on the other hand, didn’t need a slip-and-slide provided for him.
They may no longer be small, but some things never change.