It was a morning of chaos. The routine chart on the wall is a big, fat joke.
Up by 7:15? Nope.
Out the door by 8:15? Not hardly.
All those show-offs who get their children to school on time – every blasted day! – have my admiration.
I have a Decision Making Deadline. No changes in the plan for the day after 8:20 am. At that point, no one may change his shoes, his shirt, his lunch choice, or anything else that requires last minute scrambling.
I was doing my “Out the door! Out the door! Out the door!” routine. It’s charming, really. In a frantic, frenzied way.
They sauntered to the van (their pace does not match my tone), and just before the door closed behind Tyler, he called my name. One more thing.
I was gathering the left-behinds (water bottles, fruit snacks, homework folders, etc.). He threw his blanket to me just as the door closed, and I caught it midair.
Click. The door closed.
Creak. The door opened.
“Tyler, I really need you to be in the car. What do you need, buddy?”
“Mommy! You caught my blanket! You have never caught anything, ever, in my whole life, and today you caught my blanket!” He beamed and sparkled.
I gathered the left-behinds and bent myself sideways to kiss his forehead.
“You’re right, sugar. Thank you for noticing.”