Now a little about mwah! I hate mornings. Absolutely cannot stand the idea of waking up prior to 8am, for any reason whatsoever, and if you ask me to get up before the sun peeks it's head over the horizon well, let me tell you that you are in for it. Even the DH knows that I am liable to spout nasty, profanity laced diatribe in his direction for waking me from my slap happy slumber.
Which brings us to this morning:
I got up. I didn't want to. Got the kids cereal, climbed back in bed and then arose at my usual time of 7:20am. This means I have 20 minutes to get the kids to school, a feat that I have accomplished in the past. The kids are not ready though, instead both go running for the bathrooms. I mean both of those fire breathing dragons go into the bathroom. My daughter in one and my son in the other. Of course by now it's 7:25 am, I'm slightly freaking. To the timeline.
7:30 am- I'm finally like 'What in the H-E double hockey sticks is taking so long!!!??'
7:32 am- Go to the bathroom door occupied by daughter. Knock and turn door handle, it's locked (the audacity)! Your 8 years-old, you don't get to lock doors in our house until you hit puberty. 'Open Up'. Door unlocks, daughter's on toilet and innocently says 'I'm going number 2'.
'Hurry' I reply and shut the door.
7:34 am- Knock on my bathroom door and open door. My son is naked from the waist down, and says 'Going number 2 Mom.' First off this is fine, but why for the sake of all that is green, blue, and purple does my son feel it necessary to strip from the waist down to use the toilet. Makes no sense to me and he can't even explain it.
7:36 am- Daughter walks out of bathroom. I realize somethings fishy, 'Did you wipe?' Daughter just turns around and heads back into the bathroom shutting the door. I love how I can receive non-verbal answers to questions.
7:38 am- Son walks out of bathroom, finally fully clothed. Again, something fishy thought/moment. 'Did you wash your hands?' Son let's out sigh of exasperation, turns, and heads back into the bathroom.
Really my children are that predictable.
7:40 am- Walking out the front door and into the car.
Officially my children were 10 minutes late today. The crazy part was that this late arrival could not be avoided. I told both children if questioned about being late to simply reply 'We had an emergency'. My daughter said 'Yeah! A number 2 emergency'. I kindly informed them that the words poop, crap, and number 2 needed to be left out at all costs.
Then I signed 'em in at the office, left, and vowed that if I got a phone call this entire story would be told in all it's inane, 'I can't believe this is happening to me' glory. Never got the call, so I thought I would share it with you.
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