My son plays the tuba. The tuba, when put on his back, is almost as big as he is, and I think he looks like a turtle. Despite the fact that his mother appears to have no respect for his craft, my kid is really good on the tuba.
I know. The tuba. It's not a sexy instrument, like a guitar, or drums, or something. It's not an instrument that is guaranteed to bring in the ladies. But. Flour isn't a sexy ingredient - but you can't make a cake without flour.
Well, I mean, you can, I guess. Flourless Chocolate Cake is really, really good. But let's try to keep this analogy going, and pretend like I make sense, ok?
He goes to performing arts school - in addition to his regular high school, so he has gotten really good on the tuba, and he auditioned for Districts, and out of 23 tubas, he made first chair. Maybe I already told you this, I'm not sure, but just humor me, because I'm really tired and overwhelmed this week
because we've had two weeks of snow and ice and my kids have gone to school exactly two days and working from home with a houseful of kid AND a husband stuck in the house means that there is not enough coffee in the entire world.
Being First Chair is a really big deal, and even more of a big deal when you realize that he's a freshman. The logical next step is States, and that means an out of town trip.
Which means that he and I were slated to get on a bus at 6 pm tonight, to ride to a location about 4 hours - give or take - away, to sleep in a hotel and get up nice and brightly early with smiling chipper faces so he can compete.
No pressure or nothing.
I worked a full day today, and while I was working, I tried to get my house picked up - nothing will crush that rush quite like a family stuck at home during two Snowmageddon events - do the laundry, make some food, pack an overnight bag, shower and style my insanely high maintenance hair, and figure out how we were going to get to the bus without leaving my truck downtown and because it's a Friday in Lent I needed to make sure we had a meat free dinner and so, for lots of reasons including those listed above plus the fact that I really wanted to do something nice for my kid -
I ordered take out from California Pizza Kitchen, which is within a block of where we had to get the bus, but on the other side, and so my daughter, who had driven me, dropped me off so that I could run in and get the pizza.
And two soft drinks. That part is super critical.
But the security guard wouldn't let her wait for me, so she had to circle, my poor daughter who had to lose part of her evening to drive us downtown, and earlier had to turn around and go back home for my shirt that I'd forgotten to pack, and the pizza was ready but the waiter who had to check me out was more interested in checking out another staff member, and so by the time I got outside, I had just enough time to have a rather spirited discussion with the security guard as to the reality of the fact that a place that offered take out needed to have a couple of spots for someone to run in and, you know, grab said take out, and by then, my daughter was just circling back and I got into the car and we drove around the block and we pulled up to the drop off spot so my son and I could climb out of the car and
I forgot to say that while the roads have been cleared of snow, this means that the snow is piled up all over the curbs, and it slushed and rained and froze on top of the snow, so those snow piles are kind of solid, so when I opened the car door
the door got stuck on some ice and I was just irritated enough from having to deal with the Rule Following Security Guard and the Flirting Pizza waiter that I was, um, a bit more aggressive in grabbing my stuff and
long story short
I dumped the entire cup of soda straight down my pants leg. Oh, I forgot to say this - I'd washed my jeans earlier so that I was wearing a fresh pair of pants - and those are the ONLY pants I brought with me, because I may be a serial over packer but even *I* wouldn't take two pairs of pants for an overnight trip.
And my poor son tossed his tuba on his back, and we grabbed our overnight bags and the bag containing the pizza and my computer bag and the one full cup and the one mostly empty cup of Coke and we slunk into the school, where I dug out a couple of dollars and sent him across yet another street to grab his overly chaotic and completely frazzled mom a soda while I hunted through my bag for the chargers I just *knew* I'd packed but was so overwhelmed that I couldn't find,
because, really, would YOU get on a bus with soaking wet sticky pants, a piping hot tomato and cheese pizza, a bunch of high school kids and no soda?