I *thought* I was having a rather put together day. Productive even. I finished up part of the project I was working on and strolled on out of the office right on time. When I got to the preschool, I strutted across the parking lot â€“ exuding confidence.
Destroy toddled around the corner with his trademark grin. â€œHi!â€ Search followed a few steps behind dragging his lunchbox. (Note â€“ the lunchbox is at minimum half the height of my pint-size heartbreaker.) We suited up with shoes and socks. Once I coerced the boys to remove the cubby buckets from their heads, I put back all the other shoes and socks the brothers had wreaked havoc upon whilst I was indisposed with the other.
I opened the classroom door and leaned forward to pick up one of the lunchboxes. Search had other ideas.
â€œNo! Me do!â€ he announced.
We set forth toward the parking lot â€“ Search marching along, dragging the two muppet-sized coolers alongside/behind him, while Destroy paused to peer in every window along the way. The problem arose when Search continued his trek right on into the parking lot. We do not walk in parking lots or streets without holding hands. Destroy stopped, raised his chubby arms at me and requested, â€œUp.â€
Unfortunately, on this particular afternoon, Search found this rule displeasing. I (successfully this time) wrenched one of the lunchboxes from his little grip to free a hand, and triggered the mother of muppet meltdowns.
Search flung himself to the ground â€“ dead center of the crosswalk in the middle of the parking lot. In between thumb sucks he let his little body go completely slack before tensing up for another sound-barrier breaking wail.
We were having a full-blown exorcist-style tantrum.
In the middle of the parking lot. In front of several cars containing non-tantruming kids (who may soon become tantrum-y should my happy family continue to prevent them from obtaining dinner). I have no idea where a child of mine got the genes to throw tantrumsâ€¦
â€œBrother. Down.â€ Destroy proffered helpfully.
With Destroy in one arm, I bent down to try and cajole Search back up onto his feet. He was Not. Having. It. I leaned over and tried to scoop up the second 25-pound muppet with one arm. It kinda worked? But not really.
Search threw himself forward. He grabbed two handfuls of myÂ fifties style A-line dressÂ and hurled himself back â€“ skyward.
As I attempted smooth my skirt back down I took stock of my present situation. This was not going well.
Finally, one of the SUVâ€™s barricaded by the muppet blockade jumped out of her car and helped me carry the crazy one to the car. She at least appeared to be attempting to control her snickers.
To the fellow preschool woman who leapt out of her car to take pity on â€œthat momâ€ today â€“ thank you. For my own sanity Iâ€™d like to think weâ€™ve all been there.
â€œWell,â€ she shared sympathetically, â€œat least your undies are color-coordinated today.â€
Most embarrassing preschool pickup. Ever.