Okay, I did bolt my oatmeal down before dashing out of the house this morning, so they weren't strictly speaking all before breakfast.
Midway through the second term of school, my kids' school does something called student-led conferences instead of parent teacher interviews (well I dunno, maybe the parents with really bad kids still have to have an interview. Kidding, just kidding!) You go in and they present a portfolio of their work and talk about what things they could have done better on and what things they're particularly proud of. If the kid is nine and a boy, he probably does most of it in a rapid, barely audible monotone and if the kid is seven and a girl she probably does it in a very loud and animated fashion, with frequent punctuating bursts of laughter. It's all very enjoyable.
Stupid thing number one: I was in a hurry this morning, but I'm trying to eat well right now so I was determined to have my oatmeal and blueberries at eight-ish rather than eleven-ish which is when I was probably going to get back. But I was hurrying, so I opened the big-hole cap on the cinnamon instead of the little-sprinkle cap. Wow, that oatmeal was full of cinnamony goodness.
Stupid thing number two: I got into the driver's seat of the truck and immediately felt an agonizing pain around my tailbone. I haven't been to the chiropractor for a few weeks and my back hasn't been great, but this was seriously painful. I thought crap, now I'm going to have to sit in uncomfortable school chairs for an hour and then drive straight to Joanne and hope she can fit me in. When I got to the school, finally found a parking place and got to the classroom and sat down, I immediately felt the same stabbing pain. I thought what the hell? And reached back and found that my belt was twisted around into a big lump right at my tailbone. Sometimes a stabbing pain is actually the result of ....something stabbing you.
Stupid thing number three: Angus was walking me down the hall to Eve's classroom and his friend Fletcher was saying goodbye to his Dad, who we know quite well because our families hang out together all the time. The Dad asked Fletcher if he wanted a kiss good-bye like he'd given his sister, and I put my arm around Fletcher and said 'what about me? Do you want me to kiss you? Have a good day, Fletcher' and he looked suitable embarrassed and amused, and as I turned away the Dad said 'I thought you meant you wanted me to give you a kiss', which made me think no, because that would have been shockingly inappropriate behaviour. At school. Holy crap, does he think of me as someone who would behave shockingly inappropriately at school? Note to self: email his wife and figure out exactly how big a sexually harassing flake he thinks I am.
Stupid thing number four: I was sitting at Eve's desk and she was at the next desk showing me her work. I saw something on my jeans leg and reached down to flick it off. I ended up with something blue and sticky on my finger. I think I looked sort of horrified, and Eve said "yeah. Benjamin's not a very tidy eater." Right. It's food? "But this is blue" I whimpered. "Um, I think it's jello" she said. Note to self: wash clothes worn to school in very hot water.
Stupid thing number five: I had to go buy a birthday gift for a party Eve's going to on Saturday and Angus has outgrown most of his shorts, so I picked up a couple pairs for him to try on. He's only nine but quite big, and he doesn't like anything tight (and me neither, so no problem). I don't find sizes in any clothes terribly consistent, but one pair I picked up was a size 12 or 14 pair of dark blue denim shorts, and the legs are big and floppy, and of course he adores them. As he walks away in them it occurs to me that, after years of mocking them, I have bought and bestowed upon my son his very own pair of enormous pants. At least they cover his underwear. So far.
Stupid thing number six: hey, I'm out of stupid stuff. For the moment. Check back in five minutes.