I didn’t realize that I was on the phone with the Maytag repairman. That would have been a helpful tidbit while I was walking to my son’s school this morning and talking on the phone with what I thought was just my husband. But no, it was a conference call with the man who will fix my washer machine tomorrow. At least I hope he will. He’s probably frightened of me after that call.
I was rushing to the school to pick up my sixth grader who’d lasted all of 36 minutes before deciding he was too sick to be at school. I’m really not sure why I was rushing in the first place. He’s 12. He doesn’t need Mommy to hurry to rescue him from the nurse’s office.
But I was already in hyperdrive. The elementary school bus had been late, and I’d volunteered to drive five kids from the school bus stop across town to their school if it didn’t show. Then I got the call from the middle school that my firstborn was sick.
If there was a Bat Signal for moms, mine would be shining in the sky. I was ready to mobilize, swoop in and rescue.
Luckily, the elementary school bus showed up, so I only had to get to one school this morning. I circled the school three times before I gave up and parked way in the back. I was walking briskly toward the front door when my phone rang. My husband mumbled something about Maytag, told me to hold on and then asked me when I’d be around this week for the repairman.
“Today. Tomorrow. Wednesday afternoon,” I sputtered, walking and talking toward the school’s front door.
“You need to be there 8-5,” my husband explained.
“Today, tomorrow…maybe Thursday,” I reiterated. Now here’s where it got confusing for me. It sounded like he said, “Is tomorrow okay for you, Jen?” So I replied, annoyed, “Yes, tomorrow is fine.”
But now that I think of it, he may have said, “Is tomorrow okay for you, Jeff?” Jeff, the Maytag repairman, was on the phone.
Then he said it again, “Tomorrow, 8-5?”
Again, I said yes, even more annoyed. That’s when I heard a third voice. “Yes, tomorrow.”
“So tomorrow 8-5?” Pete asked, followed by some mumbling. But by now I felt like I was caught in a scene from Groundhog Day.
“I am rushing to the school to get Nick, who’s sick. I don’t know what you want from me. Just tell me what to say,” I snapped.
Then Jeff — I think he’s Jeff — asked reluctantly, “What is your wife’s name?”
Oh, Bridezilla? Cranky Pants? The Mean Lady Who Has No Time for You and Your Silly Schedules?
“Jen,” Pete replied just as I reached the front door of the school.
“I gotta go!” I blurted and hung up.
I didn’t get to my computer until 9:30. My son’s fever started an hour later. Now I am looking up the symptoms of Swine Flu (yep, he’s pretty much got all of them) and I’ve made a doctor’s appointment for later on.
In other words, my Mom Signal will be up all day. Tomorrow though, I’ll be here for the Maytag repairman.
Be afraid, Jeff. Be very afraid.