F is for Fail

Gah!

I have been a mom for almost fourteen years now, so when do you think I will finally get my act together and figure this whole job out? Thirteen more years? Twenty? Will I have gray hair and sagging boobs (oops, already have those!) and no teeth and fifty great-grand children and figure it out just in time for senility to set in?

I knew this morning when I woke up there was something I was supposed to remember. That's right--I got it! I have to call my mom tonight--it's her birthday! Problem solved. Commence sticking head up ass.

Yep, I patted myself on the back and then abruptly stuck my head up my ass because I did not remember until two minutes before the bus comes to pick up Eighty-Eight Fingers that today is picture day! Duh! My son's first picture day and he is going to be in his ratty old faded red spider web shirt. I did manage to throw a nice long sleeved button-up in his bag and spit-paste his cowlick down as the bus waited and waited in front of our house and told him to tell ask his teacher to help him put it on and that I am very, very sorry I forgot--like he is going to remember that!

Let's face it--I need remedial parenting school. I earned an F for the day.