I showed up at daycare like I always do. It was still there parked on the corner like it always has been. However, it looked like people were actually going into the building on purpose. I know, right? It's the Friday before Christmas, but nobody would actually exit the vehicle, walk in, and stay. That can't be right.
There's maybe one small alarm bell going of somewhere in the region of Namibia. Which is futher than my left toe so we're not talking about anything really serious. Yet. So I park and realize I'm in the last available space. I take a very stealthy glance to the right and the left and notice two couples getting out of their cars and going into the building.
Couples. Wearing Christmas stuff. Um.
Well, turns out not only are the kids having a Christmas party, but they also have three songs that they have been practising in order to perform for their parents and are dressed up and on the last song already which gets totally interrupted when I open the door and get attacked Kato-style somewhere around center stage. The show does go on, however:
1. No one needs to go to the bathroom. Until they do which was out in the parking lot. So we go back in and go.
2. No one remembers how to drive their car without hitting people. No one remembers not to stand in front of moving cars. Everyon inside of and outside of cars is PO'd but mostly because they have to hold my hand. They launch a protest by yanking my arms out of their sockets and dropping crap everywhere.
3. Squib got a "girl book" by accident and decides he really wants a boy book because he's a boy. His whole like is full of Barbie Dream Castle this and Dora the Explorer bed set that. But hell no we won't go reading girl books.
4. T-minus twenty minutes and everyone is in their seat and a cry rises from the back seat. "I can't find my sucker!" They were shaped like Xmas trees. Every kid got one. My kid lost one. No we never found his.
So, the weather in the car is frigid with a dash of death eater. I was planning on hitting McDonald's as a way to break up the trip since Fridays before holidays are back traffic-wise. So I asked, "Do you want four or six chicken nuggets in your Happy Meal?"
"Five. Yup, five." In the cutest smiley happiest I am the voice of the 90th Geneva Convention of McNuggets voice.
Dumbest thing ever to say ever never ever: "Well honey you know they come in four or six, so I'll get you six and take one out."
It was like kicking a skunk. You just don't ever do that. Every person on the face of the earth knows why! Believe me. All twelve members of the group conscience slapped me on the back of the head saying, "What the hell is wrong with you!" Then R. Lee Ermey (I know! He's in the group conscience...go figure) takes me by the shoulder and stares me in the eyes and says, "