I think today is going to be a good day. It didn't seem that way during the morning "routine" which is like a cross between a NASCAR pit stop and cage fighting in its tendency to bring out all of our worst impulses--me: yelling, empty threats, them: shoe resisting, shirt resisting, pants resisting, bagel resisting, screaming, screaming, and more screaming--but later, once everyone had been wrestled into their respective cars and perfunctory haveaniceday kisses delivered, we both collapsed into our respective driver's seats relieved that at least Gauntlet Number One for the day had been overcome.
Mornings: they're light on warmth and tenderness and high on efficiency. We've tried it both ways. The outcome is always the same: nobody wants to go to school/work. So we make it quick like a bandaid.
Then we turned on our cars and both our radios were tuned to the same station, which was playing Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back."
Now. I know some of you have been wondering how we get four unwilling children out of their beds and into their schools every morning. I will tell you. We have found inappropriate dance music to be extremely effective.
The other day I got James to eat an ENTIRE APPLE by cranking up Iggy Azalea's "Fancy" and dancing around the kitchen like a moron.
So Ryan and I were sitting in our cars this morning when we heard the song that made the term "Wardrobe Malfunction" a thing. And we looked at each other. And smiled. FIRST SMILE OF THE MORNING. And we CRANKED THAT TRASHY SONG UP LOUD.
And all six of us danced in our seats until the song was over. Charley and Wes cut it up in the back seat of Ryan's car. Mary bobbed her cute little rear-facing head. James did the full on "Elaine", thumbs in the air. Ryan and I did our best aging suburbanite Janet Jackson-Justin Timberlake routine (while still seated in our minivan and sensible sedan, respectively).
It was a delightful start to the day. For us. Possibly not our neighbors, but we've long stopped caring what they think of us and they've long stopped wondering aloud when Ryan's going to replace his beat up car and when we're going to maybe take the scooter/empty juice box/toys/underpants off the front porch and start behaving like respectable adults. Still, hearing "I'll make you whip me if you misbehave" issuing from my open minivan windows at seven AM was probably not how they were expecting to start their morning commutes.
But the whole family left LAUGHING this morning, instead of arguing, scowling, complaining, and/or sobbing inconsolably, so I call it a win.
But I'm definitely going to get a note from someone's teacher today.