"Is that a fucking thing?" I asked him.
"Yes, Sarah, it sure is!"
There are lots of fucking things in life. I think we can all relay a memory or two or three of stubbing our toes in the dark of night or waking up the morning of "the big presentation you've been working on for months" with a fever of 104.
Life isn't always rainbows and unicorns; it is mostly made up of flat tires, cold lattes, and forgetting that important something at the grocery store.
I've been having a lot of these moments lately. A few weeks ago a glass of milk was lovingly spilled on my laptop, completely ruining it (whoever said you can't cry over spilt milk was an idiot), and then the automatic window on my car decided that it was an excellent time to completely stop working.
And then...last night...this happened...
It began innocently enough: my child came in after school with a friend, setting his precious science homework on the table. This was no ordinary homework; this was weeks of leaf gathering and sorting and labeling. Hours spent pressing these little carefully itemized leaves into a special little binder.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed some coffee, leaving one of my sweet infant wards (I run a daycare) quietly playing with a squishy toy. In ten seconds flat that stealthy little baby had grabbed that damn binder!
I yelled the only thing that comes to mind in a moment like this "Oh fuck!" and ran for the binder, but it was too late. Science had been massacred!
What to do now? Send the binder anyway with a note saying, "Sorry, a baby ate my homework?"
My child was cool though.
"Mom, I'll take responsibility for leaving it where it could be attacked," he consoled me.
I love that kid.
So when you're crying over that stubbed toe in the middle of the night, remember you are not alone. You share that ouchie appendage with the likes of Albert Einstein, Pocahontas, Marilyn Manson, and Oprah!
I would love to hear about some of your less than stellar memories, please take a moment and share with me!
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