It Was a Good Day
It was a bad day.
It was raining again, and since I teleworked, I decided to pick the girls up from school via car instead of Metro. Why get wet when we don’t have to?
I left my house at 4. Usually it only takes 25 minutes to drive across the city to the daycare, even in rush hour traffic (which, by the way, is bumper to bumper from 3:30 to 7:00 here in the DC Metro area).
I didn’t count on a huge hole in the road and two lanes closed. It took me an hour and a half to drive a block. Why didn’t I get off that damn street and go a different way, you ask? All exits were blocked. At 5:30, still three blocks away from the daycare, I called and said I wasn’t going to make it by 6 pm, when they close. They were very nice about it and said that one of the teachers would stay with them.
At 6:30 I finally arrived. I ran inside, apologized like crazy, and thanked everyone who stayed and entertained my girls. At this point they were starving (although they had each been given an apple for a snack). Rather than risk getting caught in even worse traffic trying to leave, I brought them to the building cafeteria for dinner. We had chicken fingers and French fries. It was really awful food.
It was past seven when we finally headed home. No surprise that Evelyn fell asleep in the car; it was her bedtime. Instead of reading books, doing a puzzle, and practicing writing with Lily, I had spent the entire evening stuck in a car. I felt like such a failure.
I glanced up in the rear view mirror and saw Lily looking out the window. She saw me watching and said, “I can’t believe you picked us up so late. I can’t believe we ate in the cafeteria.”
I choked back a sob. I hate crying in front of my children. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m really, really sorry.”
I don’t think she heard me. Four year old ears and all that.
“It was so much fun!” Lily said. “I can’t wait to tell all my friends tomorrow. Can we do it again?”
Apparently, it was a good day.
I’ll take it.