Of Sundays and Mondays
I'm not sure which one of us registered more shock when our neighbor, fellow kindergartner, and Monday morning carpool friend, hopped out of her minivan and onto our driveway in full cowgirl attire this morning. Charlie turned to bury his head in my legs, while my brain churned ever so slowly back to an announcement that came home on Friday about Spirit Week. I'm not sure if Charlie was upset about his lack of western attire, or if he was just overwhelmed by the exuberance of an unexpected cowgirl on Monday morning. The cowgirl's mom smiled and muttered something about how she had thought about reminding me. I stood frozen, with Charlie attached to my legs, trying to think. We had nothing he could throw on at the last minute - no vest, no cowboy hat, not even a bandana. It was a major Mom Fail to start the week. As I drove to work fighting back tears, I marveled at how something so insignificant could completely wreak my morning. Turns out nothing is insignificant when it...