Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Too Much Singing

You don't want to know about it. You really don't. But I'm going to tell you anyway. This is what my day was like:

6:45 Up with the birds
7:55 Got my children up, fed, dressed, and off to school
8:20 My son called because he thought he had forgotten the school t-shirt he was supposed to wear for the concerts today. He didn't. The t-shirt was in his backpack AS I HAD INFORMED HIM WHEN HE LEFT THE HOUSE 25 MINUTES PREVIOUSLY. But the phone call gave me the chance to remind him that he had left his cello at home. The one he needed for first period. Which had just started.
8:22 Drove to school; dropped off cello.
10:00 Came home to learn the piece for the concerts. Yes, although I am not a student at the school, I had a solo. And I got the music yesterday.
11:15 Arrived looking half-way decent. (Look! Mrs. Buxom is wearing makeup!) Spent the next four hours in the school auditorium for rehearsal plus two performances.
3:15 Escape! Back home.
3:30 Daughter arrives home in tears.
4:00 Just when daughter is sufficiently calmed down and capable of doing her homework, it's time to leave for her therapy.
5:10 And now! We leave the Social Skills therapy for Karate therapy! Yes! Back-to-back therapies! You want to party with the Buxoms, you know you do.
6:10 During Karate, I sneaked over to McDonald's to pick up the children's Happy Meals. Luckily my low-cal, low-fat, Seattle Sutton diet meal was waiting for me at home.
6:30 Take children home from Karate; gobble dinners.
6:55 Depart for final concert of the day. Yes. Three concerts. The same solo three times.
7:15 Concert starts.
8:15 Concert over. As we're leaving, my son points out the little turdball who's been giving him a hard time lately.
8:25 Walk back home having given little turdball a piece of what's left of my mind.
8:30 Arrive back home. Start helping son with homework.
9:00 Stagger toward refrigerator for a much-deserved GLASS OF WINE.
9:15 Finish blogging about it.

1 comment:

Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I have turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.