as it turns out i’m not the worst mother in the world…

Last night on my way home from a meeting Tim called and suggested I pick up a gallon of milk. I was so tired and so burnt out from the long day that I ignored the wise advise and came straight home. This morning, however, I started doing inventory and realized that we were really down to “not much of anything” for breakfast. I’m going to the grocery store today – but that was not going to help make sure the kids partook appropriately in the “most important meal of the day…”

Is it just me or is that knowledge put out there just to make me feel guilty for not stopping for the milk? Well, I was neither in the mood to feel guilty all day, nor hear the threats of certain starvation this morning so I woke them up and told them that if they could be dressed and ready by 7:15 a.m. we would have a treat for breakfast. They were suspicious, but curious and for once everyone jumped into their clothing and then into the car 45 minutes early!

Desperate times call for desperate measures — so we headed straight to McDonald’s. Eating fast food for breakfast is totally something my mom would do and exactly the sort of thing I NEVER do, so the kids were acting as if we just landed in a theme park. They were cheering and singing and it reminded me of  Bill Cosby’s Fatherhood when the kids start chanting about having chocolate cake for breakfast…  

Then between bites of syrup drenched pancakes and sips of sugar laden orange juice Truman looks at me and asks – “Is there something wrong Mom?”

“No, why?” I asked.

Anna chimed in, “It’s just that you don’t usually…” she stopped herself before finishing.

So Cole helped her out, “Your just more like, ‘hurry up, were late, late, late’ all morning and not usually so…”

“fun,” Anna couldn’t help herself.

“What, I can’t just wake up one morning and decide to be fun?”

“Sure you can,” suggested Truman, “You can be fun anytime you want to. Honestly, Mom we don’t mind.”

“Well, it’s over,” I said, not letting them see me smile. “We are going to be late, so get your shoes back on, clean up this table, and get into the car… move it, move it, move it!”

I’m not sure who, but I’m certain I heard one of them mutter, “That’s the mother we know and love” as I chased them all back into reality.