Thursday, October 15, 2015

Crazy day

It all started when I butt-dialed the vice principal of the junior high.  I have no idea how it happened. I was sitting on the couch, with the phone in the pocket of my pajamas when I heard it dialing. It wasn't even on! But the v.p. was answering the phone and I had no choice but to tell him I butt-dialed him. He's in my contacts because he's my neighbor.

Fast forward to math.  People were not comprehending what I was teaching, and frustration was mounting.  In mid-sentence, I just stopped, put on headphones, turned up the volume of an Avicii song really loud, and escaped for 4 minutes.  When I came back, there they were, still looking at me, and I felt much more ready to teach.  I wondered if I'm insane, but then I remembered that my junior high math teacher used to throw erasers at us and once pinned one of my classmates up against the wall and yelled at him.  I thought he was insane, but now I totally understand.

So, with insanity still ringing in my head, we got ready to go to Monicals.  The kids each had a coupon for a free 8" pizza that they earned in the library's summer reading program, and we wanted to use them before they expire next week.  As I was changing out of my pajamas into my drab going-out clothes (black tshirt and gray pants with elastic waistband), Sarah yelled from her room, "Mom, I'm going to do something cute with your hair, so make sure you wear something floral!"  I managed to find a floral sweater in my closet, so I put it on over my black tshirt.  She did some twisty thing in my hair, clipped it back with a floral hair clip, and took a picture.

Then she deemed us ready to face the public.  I was driving down Jefferson when a cute gray cat ran right out in front of me. I hit the brakes, and it scurried across the street.  I pulled over to the curb and and parked, while Noah moaned, "No, Mom. Please don't."  I said, "You know I have to have the talk with that poor cat so it doesn't get hit."  He slunk down in his seat, and I tracked the cat down to give it a stern talk while Sarah petted it.  I explained about the dangers of the street, as I always do to cats I see in the street.

Finally, I parked the van at Monicals and reached for my purse. It wasn't there. I left it on the counter at home (my second Alzheimer moment of the week).  Rummaging around in the center console, I unearthed a blank check and rejoiced.  When you go to Monicals for lunch, you order at the counter and pay first, so I set my keys and check on the counter and looked at a menu. The Monicals worker said, "We don't take checks."  My intelligent response was, "Really?" to which she replied, "Really. We haven't since 2008."  I felt poor, hungry, AND stupid, thanks to that remark.  So we did the walk of shame out the door, back to the van to root around for loose change.

Noah found the little coin purse I use for toll change when we go on vacation.  I admit I took pleasure in the fact that Miss Snotty Pants was going to have to count my nickles and dimes.  I fantasized about saying, "Do you know how long this change has been in my van? Since 2008."  But I didn't.

Half the fun of going to Monicals is the placemats. Noah designed his own tshirt in classic Noah style: a plain Cubs shirt with pizza stains and Parmesan crumbs.  There was also a game where they listed lines from a movie and you had to guess which movie.  Sarah read, "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto" and said, "Oh! I know this one! It's Dorothy!"  I told her that's not the name of the movie, and she said, "Wicked Witch of the West?...Somewhere Over the Rainbow?...Follow the Yellow Brick Road?  Oh, I don't know.  I can't think of it."

Then a song came on that I recognized from my Richard Simmons "Sweatin' to the Oldies" workout.  Naturally, I got up and started doing the moves.  The kids slunk down in their seats.

A little while later, as luck would have it, a song came on that we know from Wii Kids Dance.  I happen to know those moves too, so I got up and worked off my pizza, which caused Sarah to slink down all the way under the table.
Since math hadn't gone very well this morning, I made them figure out how many square inches of pizza we consumed.  (150.72 square inches)
I had a few nickles, a couple dimes, and some pennies left for the tip. I apologized to our server.
I had planned on going to Kroger on the way home, but obviously, we just went home.

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