She’s Killing Me #3

She’s killing me, I tell ya.  My little Cake Boss.

She is never, NEVER ready on time.  Have I said never yet?

This morning was no different.  I plead with her to be ready at 8:45 am, five minutes earlier because it is pouring outside.  Raindrops the size of watermelons.  And that means the world’s supply of crazed mothers and grandparents in their M1A1 battle tanks in desert camouflage will be assaulting the three or four dropoff places at school – all at 8:55 am.  Our Marines should be embarrassed these mothers can assault the beach head on time – every time.  But unlike the Marines, its every mom for herself.  Damn the others. 🙂

As usual, my son is ready.  He is always ready.  Sometimes he forgets things like his homework – but he is always ready.

jack ready
Jack is always ready – this morning at 8:45 am as I asked… The lunch box and water bottle belong to the child who always keeps us waiting…til PAST the last minute. Notice the girl shoes with the feet missing from them?

Then I begin to yell at her.  “Brooke!  What are you doing??  Get in the car!”

Then she procrastinates even more…  She’ll do the exact opposite – like my ex does even today.  She’ll run to the bathroom or decide to wear a different pair of socks or whatever. I yell at her even more as I will have to drive like a NASCAR driver just to get near the school that is a bazillion miles away.  Tokyo’s closer.

It’s 8:48 am and Jack is waiting in the car as usual…for his sister.  Reluctantly, I haul her 100 ton backpack to the car.  It must be filled with Walmart’s entire inventory of nail polish.  Well, there are books in there at least.

She finally runs to the car – in her bare feet – in the rainwater left by the watermelon-sized raindrops –  while holding her socks, shoes and… hairbrush.

We get to the school as the bell rings.  Jack jumps out…but not Brooke.  Of course not.

Brooke suddenly remembers her mama didn’t sign an assignment sheet that was due yesterday.  Crazed Marines (aka as mothers) are honking at me…while my Little Cake Boss struggles to put her Converse on while searching for that paper.  I sign it.  She finally jumps out but her shoes are still not completely on. Criminy.

I get home.

I see something pink and white on the back seat under her hair brush she carried into the car instead of her backpack I lugged for her.

It’s the Text Princess’ iPhone.

iphoneSo I go back…to take the Text Princess her phone.

They page her.  I wait in the hallway.  She comes.  I hand her the phone.  “Papa! You didn’t have to bring it-aaah…” in her trade-mark Valley-girl way of talking… but she knows she’d have a heart attack without it.  It’s like the little notes girls used to pass around in class when I was her age.

Watch this…  The first thing she’s gonna do is lecture me when she gets picked up…after she’s the last one to leave the school, of course, texting as she walks.

21 thoughts on “She’s Killing Me #3”

      1. My wife has this same habit. Been married for 38 years. She was even late for our wedding. I have pictures to prove it. Love is stronger than arriving on time I guess.

  1. Koji – this was a blast to read and you had me cracking up throughout!!! but the best – the very best – those mother Marines – cos you nailed it amigo – but your humor is refreshing. 🙂

  2. I’d never have gone back with the phone, but after having worked at the high school recently, I know that’s a new phenomenon!
    If you hadn’t, she’d have remembered next time (end of lecture:))

    It’s fun to read about you and your kids…they’re lucky to have you and, I know, likewise. xxx

  3. I love this comic streak you have! I battled the Marines this morning because daughter used up all her money buying expensive Christmas presents for friends instead of putting gas in her own car. Mommmm, you have to drive me! We went around the block to return home for papers she needed. Yes, teenage girls can be very difficult – and we hope they grow out of it! Bless your heart. Jack is getting some valuable lessons!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s