Friday I felt like I had all the time in the world. After two days of having to shuttle the kids off to school early because of "common" days at the school for parent-teacher conferences we had a lot of time to waste. So I casually flipped through the paper while sipping my morning Activz shake and glanced at my horoscope.

"Today will bring you good fortune and much cheer."

'Great,' I thought. 'I'm already way ahead of schedule.'

And that's about where it ended.

Friday was also my daughter's read a thon at school. She was supposed to bring treats. Of which she told me about 15 minutes before we were set to leave. She showed me the paper I had casually tossed aside. As she read the paper she told me, "Oh Mom, I'm also supposed to wear my P.J.'s too. I better go change."

"Hurry......" I warned thinking my day was starting to get a little more chaotic. But still doable.

I glanced through the list and saw she was also supposed to bring her blanket, a pillow, and a stuffed animal to class that day. And her favorite book to share as well as her favorite chapter book to read.

Several LONG minutes later (because do kids EVER hurry?) I had assembled her stuff and her and her gear. I also managed to balance all of this in my hands and my purse, my son's school bag, and his show and tell box. I asked my daughter to grab the door and get into the car, and I asked my son to close and lock the door behind me.

Which never got done.

As I ask my daughter to open the car door for me, my son sees his friend walking by and says hi. And forgets about the door. And the little dog that is now tearing after this poor neighbor kid barking. Our neighbor kid gets scared and starts running, my daughter and son start tearing after the dog trying to catch him, and I'm trying to figure out a way to put the stuff down gracefully while not leaving my purse unattended in the front yard while trying to catch said dog.



I tell the neighbor kid to stop running so my daughter can catch the dog, but unfortunately he must have had a hard time hearing above the barking because he still continued to run.

I yelled at the kids to get in the car and loaded up the stuff thinking we'd just catch up to the dog on the way to the school. The kids slowly....slowly.....slooooowly got into the car and I asked everyone if their doors were closed.

"Yes Mom."
"Yeah!"

Putting the car in reverse I headed out. And that's when I heard it.
Like nails on a chalkboard.
"Mom.... I didn't close my door yet!"
Brake.
Crap. (Only it was more like S@#$ @#@#, !@#$ under my breath. Just because I turned out a swearing sailor (thanks grandpa and grandma!) doesn't mean my kids have to).

I got out and looked.

And I knew I was dead. It was small, but very, very, very noticeable.


I closed the door and started backing out again. And who do I see sauntering up to the car but the little devil himself. Looking so wide eyed and innocent like, "Did I do something bad?"



So much for that horoscope. The day just kept getting worse and worse and worse.

When my husband got home he flipped. And of course he made me feel guilty the entire night for it and all the next day. We finished our kitchen remodel in May. And since then has nagged and nagged to have me pull the boxes up from the guestroom that are meant for the kitchen. Half the kitchen and all of the crap I had from when we first moved in was still being stored in boxes in our guest room. We also had years of bills and tax receipts and health stuff and old college papers that I had packed and never bothered to go through sitting down there. (Help me out here! I hope I'm not the only one who has massive amounts of paper stored strategically in boxes so yourself or your spouse or significant other won't notice).

So what did I get to do all day Saturday to make up for that small dent in the car?

Sort. And sort. And clean. And organize.

I overflowed two of our outdoor trashcans and still have three bags of trash sitting downstairs. Plus three bags of stuff to go to the shredder.

But it's done. I feel accomplished. And the husband is happy. Sort of.