I have always said that it was my job in life to be pretty and not smart. Really, I don't believe I am much of either. A little round around the edges and more witty than book smart, but all in all, I don't think I am terrible to hang out with.
However, there are days like today, when I am neither.
When I woke up this morning, it was because Jamie was standing over me, already dressed for work. I was supposed to be driving him downtown because he had meetings and I was supposed to be taking Bridget to Millennium Place in Sherwood Park so Bridget could meet some new friends. Well, if you only give someone 15 minutes notice that it's time to go out the door, there is an excellent chance that someone is going to face the day in a headband with hair that could really do with a pull through with the flat iron.
Of course, getting me into jeans and a sweater (and the classy headband) isn't nearly as challenging as waking an almost 2 year old, who was up doing callisthenics while watching the Biggest Loser until 11pm.
There are few situations in life when I would rather try to wrestle a steak from a mountain lion, but really, it would have been much more fun than what I faced this morning. She woke yelling, like a teenager being roused to do chores on the first day of a really long grounding.
That was just half the battle. I still had to change her diaper, change her clothes, wash her face, brush her hair and teeth and then wrestle her into a snowsuit, boots and hat.
Of course, the screaming during the dressing process was mild. Someone was even less impressed with having to get into the car seat, even with the promise of an 'egg-el' at Tim Horton's for breakfast.
Finally out the door, sitting in the car, I have a chance to acknowledge Daniel. He has 4 minutes before the bell rings at school. We live 3 minutes away from the school. Today might work out after all.
"Morning Buddy," I yawn, realizing I didn't take time to stretch or wash my face.
"Morning," he replies.
"Buddy, don't forget to get a new library book today for home reading, and come straight home after patrolling. Yes, my little hockey star is a crossing guard at school, I couldn't be more proud.
"Sure," he replies.
We pull out of the driveway and are driving down the street, towards his school. Then he does it. He hasn't done it since the gingerbread house incident where he had to make the gingerbread house out of whole wheat crackers, due to lack of notice, which you will find in an earlier blog post.
"Hey Amy, I need $7 to pay for my overdue library books or I am not allowed in the library at school today."
It's a good thing for him I was still groggy.
The drive downtown was uneventful, aside from a few closed roads for snow clearing, which was just as well. In fact, I might have slept through it, because I don't remember it at all, and it was only 3 hours ago. It's a good thing Jamie was driving is all I can say.
I didn't have an uneventful ride for long because, the fun started again when I got into the driver's seat and Jamie tried to kiss Bridget goodbye. Little Linda Blair lost it. There were tears, and screaming and yelling and kicking. Then, just in case I hadn't witnessed the meltdown, Jamie felt compelled to inform me, "You're in for a long day with this one- she is in a bad mood."
Thanks for that.
Desperate for a cup of coffee, I head to the nearest Tim Horton's. It's the one by my house. If you live near me, you will know exactly who I am talking about when I tell you the guy who reminds me of a character from an unpublished Dr. Seuss book greeted me with his insanely fake happy voice over the speaker. I order up a bacon breakfast sandwich, a bagel for Bridget and a large Double Double. Surely, things will improve from here on in.
Bridget, now distracted by hearing the word bagel was finally quiet. Thank God for small favours I figure.
Then the voice booms back at me.
"Would you like to have a Canada Donut?" Dr. Seuss hollers at me through the speaker. I can hear his fake smile. This guy is so irritating he confuses my senses and causes my ears to see things.
No, I don't, I just told you what I want. Stop with the fake enthusiasm, I want to say. It's been a long morning and it's only 9:30am.
Normally, I am very patient. But this guy just gets my goat.
"No thanks." I say, in my fakest nice voice.
Then I look at the sign above the menu. Sure enough, there they are, Canada Donuts. With little red maple leafs, just like the flags. Morons, it's still freakin' January. Not anywhere close to Canada Day.
I pull up to the window and sure enough, he is skipping around in there, like a 7 foot leprechaun.
"Here's your coffee," he says, accompanied by a fake giggle. Like he knows I am having a morning. Because, we all know that fake Dr. Seuss Leprechauns surely to God don't need coffee to get them into their mental state. They need something much stronger.
I am still waiting on a breakfast sandwich and a bagel.
"You know," I say, as though someone asked my opinion, "It's not even close to the first of July."
"No, it's not. It's January 27th", he says, with an air of superiority. As though with a headband on and sleep crusted in the corners of my eyes, I might not know what the date is.
Well that just set me off.
"Well why on earth are you selling Canada Donuts, when it's not even close to Canada Day???" I say, in the tone I reserve for Daniel when he forgets to mention that he needs $7 for overdue library books when I have no cash on me and he is running perilously close to missing the school bell, but refrained from using an hour earlier when I could have.
"To support the Olympics," he says, with a smirk.
I don't like being outsmarted, especially by oversized Dr. Seuss Leprechauns. You can imagine that my morning had taken a turn for the worst. I didn't think it had any turning left to do, but alas, it had.
Once I had my breakfast securely in the car, I hauled out of there like a lady in a mission. It was time to forget about him and get on with my day. I needed to go to Rundle Park to make sure the trails were cleared for this Sunday's Frosty Fotos mini portrait sessions.
I am happy to report that the trails are cleared and the light was amazing. I wished that I had brought my camera with me and I had a more reasonable child to photograph. There was no way with her bad attitude and mine this morning that I was even going to attempt to get her out of the car seat and take her photos, even if I did have a camera with me.
Driving out of the park I mentally compiled a list of what I need to accomplish today. It's a long list so I was trying to put things in the order in which they made the most sense. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see them, in the distance- A mama bear and her cub.
Well I almost went off the road with excitement. I have only seen a bear once in my whole life and seeing them is a big fascination for me. I pull over to the side of the road, and turn on my emergency flashers. I berate myself for being the only photographer in the world dumb enough not to take a camera to the location where she will be shooting on the weekend. Of course I would see a mama bear and a baby when I am without a camera-just like when I saw a deer at arm's reach in Hermitage Park. I wrestle around, looking for my Iphone. At least I could snap a picture with that, though the quality would surely disappoint me.
It's in the bottom of my purse. The bears are still walking towards me. I can't even believe my luck.
I rummage around in my bag; hopeful they won't get scared and run off while I am looking in my bag like a fool. Finally, I find it. Daniel had rearranged my Apps again. Where the hell is the camera button?
Got it!
I press the button to roll the window down all the way while I enable the camera and then hold it up to click the photo.
Then I hear it. I hear the mama bear roar, "Can I help you," in an angry people voice.
You see, in all of my haste, I failed to realize that Mama Bear was actually an extremely tall dark haired woman in a really ugly fur coat.
And the Baby Bear? You guessed it-an incredibly portly Rottweiler.
