Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Why couldn't they just leave the shirt at school?

The teacher sent home a note saying that they were going to be decorating special t-shirts for their field trip.

"Please have the t-shirt to school by Wednesday May 20th."

May 19th, I call Steve on his way home from work to have him stop to buy a plain white t-shirt.

May 20th, Sam comes home from school and announces that he "doesn't need the t-shirt until next week."

May 27th, Sam's class decorates t-shirts.

May 29th, Sam's class cleans out their desks.

May 31st, I dig through Sam's book bag and sort things to save what needs saved for scrapbooks. What do I find? A plain white t-shirt.

Me: Uh...Sam? (holding up the t-shirt)

Sam: Oh...I forgot.

Me: Didn't you decorate t-shirts already?

Sam: Yeah, I guess I must've forgotten I had that in there.

Me: So what did YOU decorate?

Sam: Mrs. C. had an extra, so I decorated that.

Me: While this was in your bag the whole entire time?

Sam: Sorry mommy.

June 1st, Mrs. A., the assistant teacher in the class, approaches me to tell me that Sam's the only one in the class who hasn't turned in a permission slip.

Me: OK...I'll make sure he has it tomorrow morning.

We get home, fill out the permission slip, and (no, I'm not kidding) tape it to the inside of the kitchen door so that we can not possibly forget it.

June 2nd, the field trip day. We get to school early...permission slip, check...inhaler, check...lunch, check. He takes two steps out of the van toward the sidewalk and turns back toward me completely hysterical.

Me: Sam? What's wrong?

Sam: I was supposed to wear my t-shirt today and I forgot and it's in my bookbag in the kitchen AT HOOOOOOME! (imagine the appropriate level of wailing here)

Me: (donning my supermom cape) I'll TRY to go home and get here in time to get it to you, but if I don't make it you'll just have to go without it.

Sam: (more wailing) But I don't WAAAAAANT TOOOOOOO!

Me: Do you just not want to go?

Sam: No...(sniffle)...ok. (shuffles off to the school door)

Six minutes.

That's right.

Six minutes.

Lucky for me the sheriff's deputy I flew past was an acquaintence...so I just waved a friendly wave at him and he didn't pull me over.

Six minutes home and six minutes back.

My kid sits in his bright red t-shirt in the middle of a room full of kids in handpainted white t-shirts.

Sam: Thank you mommy.


Holley said...

Wow! Supermommy to the rescue!

Aurelia said...

SuperMommy in deed!

And, umm, that school is still irritating the shit outa me.

DD said...

Similar experience when we dropped him off at school and he realized it was jeans day (no uniform required). Hauled ass home to get his clothes. That kid was never happier to see me return with jeans and a tshirt.