Posted on | July 11, 2012 | 6 Comments
You know that moment when you’re just about to do something stupid and the air sort of shimmers and the world around you slows down? You sort of know that you’re going to do something that’s going to embarass you greatly but you can’t actually do anything about it because you’re standing in quicksand and you’re feet won’t work no matter how hard you try to get yourself out of that damn situation.
That was my morning.
I don’t know if everything was wonky because it was so foggy out or if it was foggy out because my life was so damn … wonky. First, I woke up to J stumbling in from his room just after 5 and asking me in a loud whisper if today was his birthday. When I assured him it was not, he went right back to bed and slept until just after 7. (I feel ya, kid. Birthdays are awesome.) Meanwhile, I was wide awake so I got up and fed the dogs… only instead of putting the food in their bowls, apparently my hands believed pouring the food onto the floor was a better option.
Fail number one.
Once we were dressed and ready to go and J had announced that “Gray smells good” for some inexplicable reason, we headed out to school. He then looked at me and said “Mommy, you so special.” And my heart exploded and I thought “Yep, today is going to be a kick ass day.”
Have I mentioned that I also have “interesting” dogs? Like not in the good way. They poop outside and all but the idea of pooping in the grass? Yeah, no. They’re not fans of that. Give them a nice smooth sidewalk or poured concrete of any kind and their asses pooch out and there’s crap everywhere. So getting to the car in the mornings is sometimes a bit of an obstacle course… step over this, avoid that… because it’s not like a nice neat pile… it’s little dots of crap all along the places normal people walk.
This is important because J announced several times on the ride to school that my car was dirty and I sort of ignored him.
He wasn’t kidding.
Kiddo had stepped in dog… droppings… and proceeded to smear it all over the back of the passenger seat. Like a 40 pound Picasso of poop.
Once he was safely at school and his shoes had been washed off along with the seat back, I headed on to work only to find that my gas light was on. I pulled into the station near my work and got out of the car.
Here is where my morning completed itself in a glorious fireworks display of awesome.
First, I spent the better part of three minutes trying to shove the diesel fuel nozzle into my non-diesel car. It took the assistance of a very bemused ELDERLY MAN… like the guy had a cane and couldn’t stand up straight… to direct me otherwise.
Second, I happily put the correct nozzle in and began to pump fuel, watching the price tag soar up over $30 (not terrible) before I went to stop the madness.
That’s when the world got all shimmery and a little fairy popped out on the side of my head with a “tsk tsk” and told me that I was about to royally screw something up. It would have been more helpful if she’d just hit me with a toaster and said “STOP PUSHING THE BUTTON” because what I did was draw back the nozzle WHILE STILL HOLDING THE SPRAY BUTTON and doused myself with gasoline.
At my crotch. All over my crotch.
Like I toxic peed my pants.
Perhaps, when J smiled at me this morning and said “Mommy, you so special,” I should have realized he didn’t mean it as a compliment.