Contrarywise, What it Wouldn't Be, It Would

Unfortunately, I was unable to record the dozen or so conversations I had with Morgan over the last couple of days that have been truly blog-worthy. Suffice it to say, she has really enjoyed getting back to school.

Everything is exciting – from sitting next to our neighbor’s grandson in the classroom to walking past the teacher she hopes to get next year in the hallway.

Snag 1. (Background: Thea is still on vacation, so in an effort to make things as simple as possible, I drive Morgan to the bus stop she should be on if Thea was home. This is also where I expect her to be dropped off, as that is what I put on my transportation form. ) But I don’t know what the heck they did over there in the bus garage this summer. I never got a transportation letter with my schedule and bus stop assignment. The teachers didn’t have their transportation information still at “Open House”. All very suspect.

So as I’m driving to pick up Morgan, I get a call from the school.

“Morgan says she should be getting on the bus, but we have that her babysitter will be picking her up.” Huh? I’m glad my 1st grader knows what’s going on.

“No, Morgan is a walker on Wednesdays only. The other days she rides the bus to the sitter’s.”

“Oh, do you know what bus she is supposed to get on?”

Okay, I realize there are fifty million screaming kids in the background and it’s not the elementary school’s fault at all, but you’re asking ME?

“She got on bus 15 in the morning, and according to the website, bus 15 drops off at this spot in the afternoon, so I’m assuming it’s 15.”

I got my child back. The buses were only running 25 minutes behind.

Her movie request after the first day of school? Jaws 3. Not quite sure what her subconscious is telling me there. She kept explaining things to Zoe and Zoe just nodded her head in awe.

“See, Zoe. When Jaws pulls that person under water the actor doesn’t really die. She just has to stay under the water until the camera goes away and then she can come up.”

Then she asks me all these movie production questions like I’m some special effects expert.

“Where does the guy that got eaten by Jaws go? Does he have to stay inside the robot Jaws for the rest of the movie? Do they pull him out the other end?”

You try explaining film editing to a six-year-old.

Snag 2. Hit it the second morning when I had to warn her about the lice check, which she apparently remembers from last year, because she immediately went hysterical about them taking her braids out and not being able to put them back in.

This makes no sense, because last year she raved about the lady that re-braided her hair and how she did it “Just like Mommy.” Completely irrational. I have no idea where she gets it.

Meanwhile, I’m sure my new hire at work thinks I do absolutely nothing. I was only in the office three days this week and the first two were short because of all the PTA goings on in the evenings.

And I had more e-mail to go through Friday when I got back than I did after my vacation. So even though we sit in the same row, I think I talked to him twice (not counting instant messaging him despite the fact that he could probably hear me at his desk if I just spoke in a normal voice).

Here’s to next week getting back to a normal and dull routine. Dull is good.