"What does neuter mean?" Hannah asked at dinner tonight.
"It means the vet would cut off Oswald's man parts," Jeremy said.
"Well, not aaaaalll of the man parts," I interjected. "He'd keep his wiener so he could pee." Ironically, Ruthie stabbed her hot dog. "Yeah, they'd just cut off his dangly bits."
"What are dangly bits?" Hannah asked.
Ruth leaned across the table, as if this would make Hannah understand better, "You know his DANGLY BITS"
"What are dangly bits?"
"You know, when you pick up Oswald and hold his back legs so he won't kick you and his man-parts dangle from beneath his fur? His dangly bits" Ruth said again.
Jeremy choked on his food. Joshua turned about eight shades of red trying to hold in laughter. And I sat there mid-chew, probably gawking, wondering where on earth Ruthie learned this charming terminology.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The icing on the cake
I am really beginning to believe that the start of a day is a good indicator for how the rest of the next twenty-some odd hours will go. At least until the point of passing out between the sheets, there is a lot of time to fill. Either the day will go your way or against you. I suppose, when one has a bad morning, one can choose to fight the bad-day karma and turn the day around, or one can just go with the flow, and hope to endure until bedtime. I tend to go for the survival approach, having found that battle is futile. Fate will have it's way with me, whether I join in or not. Yesterday began with what Ruth and I call "The French Horn Relay," rounded out with the "Wall-paper Disaster" at the studio, and finished with panache at the Verizon store when I went to finally get Joshua's phone 'fixed.'
It became clear to Jeremy and I that The Boy needed his own phone. He kept having to borrow his friends' phones to call us so we'd know when soccer practice was cut short, or cancelled, or whatever. Since he's not the most reliable kid when it comes to keeping track of things, we decided to start with a pre-paid plan, see how it goes, before signing-up for a money-sucking contract. This way, we reasoned, we could use an old phone we owned from a year or two ago, and just activate it w/ a pre-paid plan. And it sounded good on paper. Until we went through with it, and discovered the mic on the phone was busted. Joshua could hear us. We could not hear him.
Driving to the mall last week, I took his phone back to the Verizon store, and asked if I could buy a new phone. Long story short, I couldn't, not without signing over my first-born child (gladly!) and maybe cutting off my right leg as well. Apparently, the prices listed on the phones in the store are only for money-sucking contracts, not pre-paid. Sensing my distress the tech figured out a way to get me a replacement for $50. Basically, it is the same phone, but because the old was was out of warranty, way out of warranty, I had to pay the money for it's identical replacement. I was told by the twelve-year old tech, "The new phone will arrive on Tuesday at your house, just bring in the whole fed-ex box, and we'll get it all set up for you."
The phone arrived, and I couldn't get to the Verizon store that day. I decided to go on Wednesday. Yesterday. The day that knew no end. I should have known better. I really should have. I already had two adventures that day and usually that's a good indicator to just quit trying to accomplish anything, go home, sit on the couch, and push the buttons on the remote. But no, Josh needed his phone, and I wanted to get it done. We left the house at three-thirty in the afternoon, and returned home around six. I spent most of that time at the Verizon store.
Ramon was a very nice tech. In fact, I felt as if we were old friends by the end of the ordeal. He transferred the information, instructed me how and where to drop off the old phone into the fed-ex box, and even boxed and labeled it for me! But when Ramon went to activate the new phone, he hit a snag.
"What is your pass code for this account?" Ramon asked me.
"I don't have one. No one set a code up for this account."
Ramon sighed the sigh of the weary tech who knows some salesman did not do their job right. "I can see that," he said looking up the account on the computer. "It shows you've never had a pass code set up. I cannot do that now that the old phone is activated. We'll have to call customer service. You'll need to talk to them." Ramon dialed customer service, and handed the receiver to me across the desk. By this point, the kids were dancing on their butts, itching to get off of the bench I commanded they sit on.
"HELLO!!!!!!!" said the customer service rep, "I'm here to help you. I want to make your experience with Verizon a more enjoyable one." She was obviously reading a script. I was questioning her literacy.
"Well, I'm standing here at the Verizon store. And the tech can't activate my pre-paid phone with out a pass code. I need you to set up one for me."
"O.K. Lets see what I can do for you. What is your name?"
"Melanie M_______"
"M_________?!?!?!? MY NAME IS ROBYN M___________!!!! Well HOW ABOUT THAT?" She exclaimed loudly in my ear with glee.
"Um yeah, wonderful. My pass code?" Ramon gave me a funny look. I'm pretty sure my facial expression was speaking volumes.
"Ok. Now I need you to spell your name. You understand, I have to ask that."
"Ok. M-e-l-a-n-i-e, M-"
"Oh now I know how to spell THAT name. ha ha ha. But I still have to have you spell it out to me."
Super. "M-_-_-_-_-_-_"
"And your address. Again, I'm supposed to ask you to spell it."
I gave her all my contact information, enduring the little side-remarks, I'm sure she thought were friendly, but I found just plain creepy.
"Now, do you have the phone with you?"
"No, it's behind the desk. I'm at the Verizon store. I just need a pass code."
"Oh. Ok. So, is this a new phone?"
"It's a replacement. The other phone was broken, so they replaced it since they couldn't fix it."
"Do you have it with you?"
"No. It's behind the desk with the tech. Here. I'm giving you to the tech."
Frustrated, I handed the phone to Ramon who had been watching me curiously. Two seconds into his conversation, I watched the light bulb in his mind go on. Now he knew why I was making those faces. It wasn't so much that I couldn't get through to Robyn, but her hyper-over-chipper attitude combined with her insistence to get through her script was just, well, words cannot describe. Truly I'm failing to capture the experience.
"If she sets up a pass code," I overheard Ramon saying, "I can activate the phone. We just need a pass code." Obviously, part of the script, I could tell Robyn was asking Ramon for numbers on the phone. He obliged, pulling of the back of the new phone to read off the serial code. Then he read off another code on the documentation that came with the phone. "You need the code off the old phone?" He asked Robyn, incredulously. We exchanged a look, he had boxed and wrapped up the old phone to be shipped to fed-ex. "Look," Ramon said, pushing the button to put Robyn on speaker phone, "We just need the pass code. I can set up the phone myself if I have the pass code."
"Oh, Ok," Robyn said, "Put Melanie back on."
I leaned over the counter and said, "I'm right here. You're on speaker."
"Oh. OhhhKaaaaaaaay. Spell your name for me again, Melanie."
I pretended to beat my head on the counter. Ramon shook his head. We were both smiling because this gal was a piece of work. She was amusingly frustrating. I fed Robyn all my contact information again.
"THAT"S FABULOUS, MELANIE! YOU GET AN A PLUS!"
Ramon lost it. Doubling over and holding his stomach, he laughed and laughed and laughed, trying hard to not let his laughter ring over to the speaker phone. Robyn, oblivious, kept talking to herself, "I asked if she had the phone. I got her name and address..." Meanwhile Ramon whispered, "That's the first time I've ever heard that. Like you were graded or something." He cracked up once more. I was busy trying to hold in my own peals of laughter. This call was just getting better and better!
"Oh ok. So, let's set up a pass code."
Yes! Finally!
"So first, we need a security question, in case you forget your pass code. We will ask you this question any time you forget your pass code. Your choices are: ..."
She read off a series of choices. I gave her the one I thought I'd remember the answer to, then gave her the answer, spelled it, even.
"Oh, ok. Um, Give me four numbers that will be associated with your account." Robyn read like a second grader. I gave her four numbers.
As soon as she had her four numbers, Ramon punched in a bunch of stuff and had the phone activated, and ran a test call. Robyn was a freight train unwilling to be derailed.
"So now, do you have the phone with you?"
"I already activated the phone," Ramon interjected.
"Oh ok. Do you have the phone with you?"
"It's activated. I only needed the pass code."
"Oh ok. You have it activated?"
"Yes. I only needed the pass code."
Ramon looked expectantly at me, ready to hand me the phone and be done with this business. Robyn decided she needed to stay on script.
"Oh ok. Um, Now this is the part of the call where I have to put your plan into the price plan comparison generator. I must do this, you understand, with every caller to see if you are getting the best plan for your money based on your usage. Um, It looks like you have a balance of $98.71"
"Yes," I said, "because we couldn't use the phone. It was broken." I spoke slowly, just in case.
"So, you have a balance of $98.71. I have to do this, you know, with every caller. And um, it looks like at this point you have only used the phone twice."
"Yes, because we couldn't use the phone. It was broken. That's why we were activating the replacement today." I said, my patience growing thin.
"So you have a balance of $98.71. And you've used the phone twice. Ah ha! Yes, right now you have the best plan for your usage!" Robyn sounded so pleased with herself. I didn't have the heart at all to be snide. I wanted to, many times throughout the call. But something about her, maybe it was how new to the job she sounded, maybe it was her enthusiasm, I just couldn't find my sarcasm anywhere. "Ok then," I said.
"So, uh, we set up a pass code, I asked you to spell your name, and we have a security question, and I did the price plan comparison with your balance of $98.71. You do know you have a balance of $98.71?"
"Yes. I do know that," I said.
"Oh ok. Well, is there anything else I can do for you?" Ramon was making the "Please say no, please say no" face at me.
"Nope, that's it. I just needed a pass code. And you set that up."
"WELL ISN'T THAT WONDERFUL?! I'M SO GLAD I COULD HELP YOU HERE ON BEHALF OF VERIZON. I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY AND ENJOY THAT NEW PHONE!!!"
"Yup, Sure will. Good bye!" I said.
Ramon quickly hung up the phone before my new BFF Robyn could say anything else. He hung his head and shook it, laughed and looked at me, "I have never heard anything like that before ever in all the time I've been working here."
"I've never quite had a customer service rep like Robyn either, " I said.
Handing me the replacement cell phone, Ramon wished me a good evening, apologized for taking so long. I told him it was ok, these things seem to happen to me all the time. Then I added, "Thanks so much for your help, Ramon. You get an A plus!"
The kids and I walked out of the store, Ramon's chuckles echoing behind us.
It became clear to Jeremy and I that The Boy needed his own phone. He kept having to borrow his friends' phones to call us so we'd know when soccer practice was cut short, or cancelled, or whatever. Since he's not the most reliable kid when it comes to keeping track of things, we decided to start with a pre-paid plan, see how it goes, before signing-up for a money-sucking contract. This way, we reasoned, we could use an old phone we owned from a year or two ago, and just activate it w/ a pre-paid plan. And it sounded good on paper. Until we went through with it, and discovered the mic on the phone was busted. Joshua could hear us. We could not hear him.
Driving to the mall last week, I took his phone back to the Verizon store, and asked if I could buy a new phone. Long story short, I couldn't, not without signing over my first-born child (gladly!) and maybe cutting off my right leg as well. Apparently, the prices listed on the phones in the store are only for money-sucking contracts, not pre-paid. Sensing my distress the tech figured out a way to get me a replacement for $50. Basically, it is the same phone, but because the old was was out of warranty, way out of warranty, I had to pay the money for it's identical replacement. I was told by the twelve-year old tech, "The new phone will arrive on Tuesday at your house, just bring in the whole fed-ex box, and we'll get it all set up for you."
The phone arrived, and I couldn't get to the Verizon store that day. I decided to go on Wednesday. Yesterday. The day that knew no end. I should have known better. I really should have. I already had two adventures that day and usually that's a good indicator to just quit trying to accomplish anything, go home, sit on the couch, and push the buttons on the remote. But no, Josh needed his phone, and I wanted to get it done. We left the house at three-thirty in the afternoon, and returned home around six. I spent most of that time at the Verizon store.
Ramon was a very nice tech. In fact, I felt as if we were old friends by the end of the ordeal. He transferred the information, instructed me how and where to drop off the old phone into the fed-ex box, and even boxed and labeled it for me! But when Ramon went to activate the new phone, he hit a snag.
"What is your pass code for this account?" Ramon asked me.
"I don't have one. No one set a code up for this account."
Ramon sighed the sigh of the weary tech who knows some salesman did not do their job right. "I can see that," he said looking up the account on the computer. "It shows you've never had a pass code set up. I cannot do that now that the old phone is activated. We'll have to call customer service. You'll need to talk to them." Ramon dialed customer service, and handed the receiver to me across the desk. By this point, the kids were dancing on their butts, itching to get off of the bench I commanded they sit on.
"HELLO!!!!!!!" said the customer service rep, "I'm here to help you. I want to make your experience with Verizon a more enjoyable one." She was obviously reading a script. I was questioning her literacy.
"Well, I'm standing here at the Verizon store. And the tech can't activate my pre-paid phone with out a pass code. I need you to set up one for me."
"O.K. Lets see what I can do for you. What is your name?"
"Melanie M_______"
"M_________?!?!?!? MY NAME IS ROBYN M___________!!!! Well HOW ABOUT THAT?" She exclaimed loudly in my ear with glee.
"Um yeah, wonderful. My pass code?" Ramon gave me a funny look. I'm pretty sure my facial expression was speaking volumes.
"Ok. Now I need you to spell your name. You understand, I have to ask that."
"Ok. M-e-l-a-n-i-e, M-"
"Oh now I know how to spell THAT name. ha ha ha. But I still have to have you spell it out to me."
Super. "M-_-_-_-_-_-_"
"And your address. Again, I'm supposed to ask you to spell it."
I gave her all my contact information, enduring the little side-remarks, I'm sure she thought were friendly, but I found just plain creepy.
"Now, do you have the phone with you?"
"No, it's behind the desk. I'm at the Verizon store. I just need a pass code."
"Oh. Ok. So, is this a new phone?"
"It's a replacement. The other phone was broken, so they replaced it since they couldn't fix it."
"Do you have it with you?"
"No. It's behind the desk with the tech. Here. I'm giving you to the tech."
Frustrated, I handed the phone to Ramon who had been watching me curiously. Two seconds into his conversation, I watched the light bulb in his mind go on. Now he knew why I was making those faces. It wasn't so much that I couldn't get through to Robyn, but her hyper-over-chipper attitude combined with her insistence to get through her script was just, well, words cannot describe. Truly I'm failing to capture the experience.
"If she sets up a pass code," I overheard Ramon saying, "I can activate the phone. We just need a pass code." Obviously, part of the script, I could tell Robyn was asking Ramon for numbers on the phone. He obliged, pulling of the back of the new phone to read off the serial code. Then he read off another code on the documentation that came with the phone. "You need the code off the old phone?" He asked Robyn, incredulously. We exchanged a look, he had boxed and wrapped up the old phone to be shipped to fed-ex. "Look," Ramon said, pushing the button to put Robyn on speaker phone, "We just need the pass code. I can set up the phone myself if I have the pass code."
"Oh, Ok," Robyn said, "Put Melanie back on."
I leaned over the counter and said, "I'm right here. You're on speaker."
"Oh. OhhhKaaaaaaaay. Spell your name for me again, Melanie."
I pretended to beat my head on the counter. Ramon shook his head. We were both smiling because this gal was a piece of work. She was amusingly frustrating. I fed Robyn all my contact information again.
"THAT"S FABULOUS, MELANIE! YOU GET AN A PLUS!"
Ramon lost it. Doubling over and holding his stomach, he laughed and laughed and laughed, trying hard to not let his laughter ring over to the speaker phone. Robyn, oblivious, kept talking to herself, "I asked if she had the phone. I got her name and address..." Meanwhile Ramon whispered, "That's the first time I've ever heard that. Like you were graded or something." He cracked up once more. I was busy trying to hold in my own peals of laughter. This call was just getting better and better!
"Oh ok. So, let's set up a pass code."
Yes! Finally!
"So first, we need a security question, in case you forget your pass code. We will ask you this question any time you forget your pass code. Your choices are: ..."
She read off a series of choices. I gave her the one I thought I'd remember the answer to, then gave her the answer, spelled it, even.
"Oh, ok. Um, Give me four numbers that will be associated with your account." Robyn read like a second grader. I gave her four numbers.
As soon as she had her four numbers, Ramon punched in a bunch of stuff and had the phone activated, and ran a test call. Robyn was a freight train unwilling to be derailed.
"So now, do you have the phone with you?"
"I already activated the phone," Ramon interjected.
"Oh ok. Do you have the phone with you?"
"It's activated. I only needed the pass code."
"Oh ok. You have it activated?"
"Yes. I only needed the pass code."
Ramon looked expectantly at me, ready to hand me the phone and be done with this business. Robyn decided she needed to stay on script.
"Oh ok. Um, Now this is the part of the call where I have to put your plan into the price plan comparison generator. I must do this, you understand, with every caller to see if you are getting the best plan for your money based on your usage. Um, It looks like you have a balance of $98.71"
"Yes," I said, "because we couldn't use the phone. It was broken." I spoke slowly, just in case.
"So, you have a balance of $98.71. I have to do this, you know, with every caller. And um, it looks like at this point you have only used the phone twice."
"Yes, because we couldn't use the phone. It was broken. That's why we were activating the replacement today." I said, my patience growing thin.
"So you have a balance of $98.71. And you've used the phone twice. Ah ha! Yes, right now you have the best plan for your usage!" Robyn sounded so pleased with herself. I didn't have the heart at all to be snide. I wanted to, many times throughout the call. But something about her, maybe it was how new to the job she sounded, maybe it was her enthusiasm, I just couldn't find my sarcasm anywhere. "Ok then," I said.
"So, uh, we set up a pass code, I asked you to spell your name, and we have a security question, and I did the price plan comparison with your balance of $98.71. You do know you have a balance of $98.71?"
"Yes. I do know that," I said.
"Oh ok. Well, is there anything else I can do for you?" Ramon was making the "Please say no, please say no" face at me.
"Nope, that's it. I just needed a pass code. And you set that up."
"WELL ISN'T THAT WONDERFUL?! I'M SO GLAD I COULD HELP YOU HERE ON BEHALF OF VERIZON. I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY AND ENJOY THAT NEW PHONE!!!"
"Yup, Sure will. Good bye!" I said.
Ramon quickly hung up the phone before my new BFF Robyn could say anything else. He hung his head and shook it, laughed and looked at me, "I have never heard anything like that before ever in all the time I've been working here."
"I've never quite had a customer service rep like Robyn either, " I said.
Handing me the replacement cell phone, Ramon wished me a good evening, apologized for taking so long. I told him it was ok, these things seem to happen to me all the time. Then I added, "Thanks so much for your help, Ramon. You get an A plus!"
The kids and I walked out of the store, Ramon's chuckles echoing behind us.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
And I had such high hopes for today.
"I'm leaving," Jeremy said. He still looked like death warmed over, but insisted on going to work today anyway. I suppose after taking two sick days, he was fretting over the 'in box' on his virtual desk accumulating to-do tasks.
"Is Ruthie ready to go too? She has band today," I asked him from behind the shower curtain. "Oh CRAP! Is it 7:30 already?!???" I did a quick mental calculation and discovered I had to take a very very fast shower.
"Yeah," He said. "I've gotta go and take The Boy to school, then to work."
"Oh, ok. Well, if she's not ready to go, and you can't take her, can you tell me? I'll have to move a little faster."
A few moments later, Ruth came running into the only bathroom in the house. "I'm not ready. Daddy says he's leaving."
"Ok," I said. "You've got about ten minutes, max, to get your butt in gear and be ready to walk out that door.
"Oh," she said, "And by the way, it's picture day."
"Crap! Ok. Plug in the curling iron. Let's see if we can fussy-up your hair a bit. Now get out, so I can get out of the shower and start getting dressed."
I quickly dried off, lotioned up, and slapped on my painting/work clothes. While pulling on my pants, I hollered to Ruth to come upstairs and start curling her hair the way I've been teaching her. I figured I could at least get her started and then finish it once I was clad completely. The Little Sister green-eyed monster showed up, and Hannah began demanding to do her hair. "You're not going to band, I am," said Ruth in her best mommy voice. Crammed into our little closet of a bathroom and hopping around on one foot trying to get my other pant leg on, I played referee and broke up the fight before it began. My blood pressure was sky-rocketing.
We rushed down the stairs, throwing on jackets and shoes, picking up back packs and lunches. I grabbed the picture day envelope off of the bulletin board hanging on the fridge. "HEY! That's MY envelope," Hannah whined.
"They're both the SAME," I ground out through my teeth. Miss I-have-to-be-COA whimpered again. Giving her the glare-of-death, I turned back to the envelope, circled my choices, wrote the check, and handed it all over to Ruth.
"Don't lose this."
"I won't."
"You'd better not." Ruthie has been losing a lot of things lately. I think I might be losing my mind.
I grabbed Ruth's french horn, which must weigh a ton and a half, and opened the front door.
No van.
Ohhhhh yeaaaaaah! The van was in the shop yesterday. Dad's taking me to pick it up this morning.
Turning around, I looked at Ruth as I shut the front door and said, "Um, no van."
"We have to walk?" She said, frowning.
"Yeah."
"Up that hill?"
"Yeah."
"Oooohhh!"
"Yeah."
I live in a town with the word "Mount" in its name. "The Hill" as the children refer to it, is not a trivial matter, not when having to haul a french horn, a snare drum, or a double stroller, for that matter. I've been asked before how I manage to keep in shape. It's simple. I probably run up "The Hill" at a minimum of twice a week. More, depending on who forgot what on which day of school. The kids walk a short but steep incline from the house to twenty-fifth street. From there, it's pretty much straight and level for two blocks until they get to "The Hill." To get to their elementary school, it's another two, maybe three blocks straight up. Normally the walk takes from seven to ten minutes, depending on your speed, and how many children you're herding along. When Joshua was in first grade, Ruth in pre-school, and Hannah a toddler, it would easily take me fifteen to twenty, unless I pushed the girls in a double-stroller.
At this point, Ruthie was late, very late, for band. It wasn't a matter of walking up "The Hill" with her horn in its case. It was a matter of running up "The Hill." Neither Ruthie nor I were looking forward to the run. "I'll carry the horn, baby," I told her.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yeah, we're gonna have to move very quickly. And you won't be able to haul it." Ruth, who is very sensitive and sweet, often thinks of others before herself, little sister not withstanding. She did not like that I was having to carry it the whole way and her expression radiated her distress. "Hey," I added, trying to re-assure her, "I'll think of it as my morning exercise. I haven't been to gym in ages. This will be weights and cardio." I smiled. She smiled back. "Besides, I'll probably have you carry it for a little at some point. Between the two of us, we should be able to get it up there."
We tore out of the house at mach speed, well, as fast as our little legs would take us. And if anyone who has ever walked with me can attest, it's pretty fast. We plowed up the small incline, power-walked the straight-away, and began hauling our butts up "The Hill." Half-way up, Ruth complained about her hair getting messed up. "Worry about getting there on time," I said between panted breaths.
"Whew," Ruthie said, "This is hard. (pant) How are you carrying that thing?(gasp)"
"I don't know. (huff) I think its weight just increased by another half a ton. (puff) I'm handing it off to you now. (gasp) As I can't feel my arms now. (wheeze)"
"O(haaah) K. Ugh."
"I think (pant) this hill (gasp) is growing"
"I (huff puff) know."
"And the horn (wheeze) just added (fooof) two hundred (gasp) more pounds."
Ten feet more, and Ruth began dragging the horn case along the sidewalk. "Here, give it back to me." I said, taking it once more. We passed it back and forth a couple more times until we got towards the crosswalk, the building in view. Crossing the street, we noticed another girl getting out of her mother's car. Whew! Another late band member. Ruth wasn't the only one.
Continuing the last twenty feet towards the front doors, we noticed Ruth's fellow band mate turn away from the doors. She walked to the railing and yelled, "RUTHIE! BAND IS CANCELLED!"
"WHAT?!?"
"BAND IS CANCELLED!"
"CANCELLED?"
"YEAH, CUZ OF PICTURE DAY."
We stood by the cafeteria door, momentarily dumbfounded. I looked at Ruthie. She looked at me. I said, "Well, we're leaving the horn here at school anyway. No way I'm carrying that thing back. Not when you have your band lesson tomorrow." Strolling, now, into the front doors, I walked into the office and announced I was leaving the horn. They directed me to the band room where I could deposit it. We wandered back to the house, to wait until it was the official time for school to start. And as we walked, I thought, if this is how my day is beginning, I wonder what else would happen.
Little did I know. But that's another story.
"Is Ruthie ready to go too? She has band today," I asked him from behind the shower curtain. "Oh CRAP! Is it 7:30 already?!???" I did a quick mental calculation and discovered I had to take a very very fast shower.
"Yeah," He said. "I've gotta go and take The Boy to school, then to work."
"Oh, ok. Well, if she's not ready to go, and you can't take her, can you tell me? I'll have to move a little faster."
A few moments later, Ruth came running into the only bathroom in the house. "I'm not ready. Daddy says he's leaving."
"Ok," I said. "You've got about ten minutes, max, to get your butt in gear and be ready to walk out that door.
"Oh," she said, "And by the way, it's picture day."
"Crap! Ok. Plug in the curling iron. Let's see if we can fussy-up your hair a bit. Now get out, so I can get out of the shower and start getting dressed."
I quickly dried off, lotioned up, and slapped on my painting/work clothes. While pulling on my pants, I hollered to Ruth to come upstairs and start curling her hair the way I've been teaching her. I figured I could at least get her started and then finish it once I was clad completely. The Little Sister green-eyed monster showed up, and Hannah began demanding to do her hair. "You're not going to band, I am," said Ruth in her best mommy voice. Crammed into our little closet of a bathroom and hopping around on one foot trying to get my other pant leg on, I played referee and broke up the fight before it began. My blood pressure was sky-rocketing.
We rushed down the stairs, throwing on jackets and shoes, picking up back packs and lunches. I grabbed the picture day envelope off of the bulletin board hanging on the fridge. "HEY! That's MY envelope," Hannah whined.
"They're both the SAME," I ground out through my teeth. Miss I-have-to-be-COA whimpered again. Giving her the glare-of-death, I turned back to the envelope, circled my choices, wrote the check, and handed it all over to Ruth.
"Don't lose this."
"I won't."
"You'd better not." Ruthie has been losing a lot of things lately. I think I might be losing my mind.
I grabbed Ruth's french horn, which must weigh a ton and a half, and opened the front door.
No van.
Ohhhhh yeaaaaaah! The van was in the shop yesterday. Dad's taking me to pick it up this morning.
Turning around, I looked at Ruth as I shut the front door and said, "Um, no van."
"We have to walk?" She said, frowning.
"Yeah."
"Up that hill?"
"Yeah."
"Oooohhh!"
"Yeah."
I live in a town with the word "Mount" in its name. "The Hill" as the children refer to it, is not a trivial matter, not when having to haul a french horn, a snare drum, or a double stroller, for that matter. I've been asked before how I manage to keep in shape. It's simple. I probably run up "The Hill" at a minimum of twice a week. More, depending on who forgot what on which day of school. The kids walk a short but steep incline from the house to twenty-fifth street. From there, it's pretty much straight and level for two blocks until they get to "The Hill." To get to their elementary school, it's another two, maybe three blocks straight up. Normally the walk takes from seven to ten minutes, depending on your speed, and how many children you're herding along. When Joshua was in first grade, Ruth in pre-school, and Hannah a toddler, it would easily take me fifteen to twenty, unless I pushed the girls in a double-stroller.
At this point, Ruthie was late, very late, for band. It wasn't a matter of walking up "The Hill" with her horn in its case. It was a matter of running up "The Hill." Neither Ruthie nor I were looking forward to the run. "I'll carry the horn, baby," I told her.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yeah, we're gonna have to move very quickly. And you won't be able to haul it." Ruth, who is very sensitive and sweet, often thinks of others before herself, little sister not withstanding. She did not like that I was having to carry it the whole way and her expression radiated her distress. "Hey," I added, trying to re-assure her, "I'll think of it as my morning exercise. I haven't been to gym in ages. This will be weights and cardio." I smiled. She smiled back. "Besides, I'll probably have you carry it for a little at some point. Between the two of us, we should be able to get it up there."
We tore out of the house at mach speed, well, as fast as our little legs would take us. And if anyone who has ever walked with me can attest, it's pretty fast. We plowed up the small incline, power-walked the straight-away, and began hauling our butts up "The Hill." Half-way up, Ruth complained about her hair getting messed up. "Worry about getting there on time," I said between panted breaths.
"Whew," Ruthie said, "This is hard. (pant) How are you carrying that thing?(gasp)"
"I don't know. (huff) I think its weight just increased by another half a ton. (puff) I'm handing it off to you now. (gasp) As I can't feel my arms now. (wheeze)"
"O(haaah) K. Ugh."
"I think (pant) this hill (gasp) is growing"
"I (huff puff) know."
"And the horn (wheeze) just added (fooof) two hundred (gasp) more pounds."
Ten feet more, and Ruth began dragging the horn case along the sidewalk. "Here, give it back to me." I said, taking it once more. We passed it back and forth a couple more times until we got towards the crosswalk, the building in view. Crossing the street, we noticed another girl getting out of her mother's car. Whew! Another late band member. Ruth wasn't the only one.
Continuing the last twenty feet towards the front doors, we noticed Ruth's fellow band mate turn away from the doors. She walked to the railing and yelled, "RUTHIE! BAND IS CANCELLED!"
"WHAT?!?"
"BAND IS CANCELLED!"
"CANCELLED?"
"YEAH, CUZ OF PICTURE DAY."
We stood by the cafeteria door, momentarily dumbfounded. I looked at Ruthie. She looked at me. I said, "Well, we're leaving the horn here at school anyway. No way I'm carrying that thing back. Not when you have your band lesson tomorrow." Strolling, now, into the front doors, I walked into the office and announced I was leaving the horn. They directed me to the band room where I could deposit it. We wandered back to the house, to wait until it was the official time for school to start. And as we walked, I thought, if this is how my day is beginning, I wonder what else would happen.
Little did I know. But that's another story.
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