It is 7:38 on a Thursday morning and I am running late as usual. I glance at the clock on the dashboard before turning my head to safely back out of the driveway. I am only three minutes late and that is not enough to make it or break it for school drop off. It has been less than ten minutes since I was standing in the garage doorway, my foot propping open the door for the three blond boys that were running out to the car. My arms are loaded with lunch boxes and water bottles and as each child passes me, I hand off the food and drinks.
My car is a full-on chatter house with four little boys laughing and talking. They are all engaging in conversation at the same time and my head is beginning to pound. My 2-year-old keeps asking me in loud voice, “Is this nice, Mommy?” and immediately screams like Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber. This makes the rest of my passengers howl with laughter. I take two fingers and gently rub the center of my forehead while breathing deeply.
Next, I announce that we should play the “I’m thinking of” game. It is our made up game, much like I spy but you don’t have to see the item that you are giving clues for. The game is a hit and everyone is taking turns. I only have to ask the boys five times to please stop choosing gas as the “thinking of” item. Another thing that I never knew prior to becoming a Mom, boys think the grossest things are also the funniest.