When you go to drop your kid off at piano and she casually drops this line: "Oh yah, today is my recital."
After you scream in horror and frustration you look around, assess the situation, and ask yourself a couple of questions:
Well, ok, does she look presentable? Answer: No
Do I look presentable? Answer: No
Have I at least showered: Answer: No
Do I have on make-up: Answer: No
Surely I remembered to brush my hair? Answer: No
Does Bode have on shoes? Answer: No
Have I brushed his teeth yet? Answer: No
Please tell me he doesn't have on that same violent looking spiderman shirt from Wal-Mart that he's insisted on wearing everyday this summer? Answer: Of course he does.
Do I have to go? Answer, according to Mia: OF COURSE YOU HAVE TO COME IT'S MY RECITAL!!! (She said that in the most calm and kind way, I wish you could have heard it.)
And then the worst feeling of all - You look around the parking lot and see Grandparents. With video cameras. And flowers.
Parenting fail number: I've lost count
3 comments:
What!?! Not that two boys 3 and 1 would be an ideal piano recital audience, but I would have come and let them create chaos in the lobby until it was done. I'm going to need a private concert, then.
WHOA. Who does recitals in the summer anyway?
Wow, that's the stuff bad dreams are made of... a whole lot like the one where you show up at school, and it's the day of the final for which you never attended the class... :)
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