I decided to do a little Krispy Kreme run for breakfast this morning. Yes, I know. I know the donuts are globules of sugar and lard (but 0% trans fat!). Yes, I know they aren’t exactly the breakfast of champions. But we haven’t been there in months and the kids press their faces against the window and look longingly at the “Hot Donuts Now” sign whenever we drive by. Besides, I wanted one. Or two. So, no biggie. The kids got their exercise yesterday running around a playground/park we really like; this would be just a little treat.
(Mind you, I enjoyed myself at the park by sitting on my hiney engrossed in a book. Still.)
Everyone got dressed without complaint and the kids got in the car. Amazing! I was such a cool mom!
Then I realized I didn’t have my keys. They weren’t hanging in their usual spot. I looked all over the kitchen, living room, my bedroom and still couldn’t find them. I looked in pockets that I knew they wouldn’t be in and again E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E., becoming more and more mad at myself . Who ever said I was cool or had it together? What the hell was I thinking?
I started swearing. I ordered the kids to get out of the car. We went inside and I then began spewing what I like to call Parental Proclamations of Absurdity.
“Well,” I huffed in between cusses not so hidden under my breath, “I guess now we’ll NEVER leave the house, will we?!”
T-Rex groaned or gasped at this. As I marched up the stairs, I heard Drama Girl say, “Now we’ll have to be homeschooled! Yay!”
The thought of this brought tears to my eyes.
I went into the garage again, convinced God was trying to tell me to give up sugar and all illusions of coolness or control in my life. Well, fuck that. I wanted one (or two) of those goddamn donuts — and I had to find my keys sooner or later.
I retraced my steps one more time and ended up digging around in the garbage pail where I had dumped some flower clippings and weeds, plus yesterday’s junk mail. And there they were.
We went to Krispy Kreme and I felt much better.