Tonight was one of those nights. I was still on the bus at 6:30 p.m., still not really anywhere near home, when I should have been pulling out of the preschool parking lot. The turnpike was the proverbial parking lot.
Cranky people on the bus talked too loud on their cell phones. We finally reached my stop and I sprinted to the car and then sped toward school and there were Leo and Ellie, the last to be picked up (though the director assured me that many parents were late thanks to an accident on 280). Yes there were my children, dancing in the parking lot (under the watchful eye of the director, don't worry) under the light of a plump, autumn moon. They shrieked when they saw me as they always do, and suddenly ninety pounds of squirming love were bounding toward me.
We came home to a hot cheese pizza (Erin brilliantly ordered delivery) and the bubs got to watch "Diego" while eating dinner. Hey, it was late and the evening was a lost cause, let's face it. Did I mention Ellie was sneaking sips of my Diet 7-Up?
I'm sure they thought the whole thing was great fun, but me? I'm tired. Tomorrow is Friday, right?
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