I had Dolly Parton's 9 to 5 stuck in my head as I went about my morning
ablutions. In fact, I had a big visual of Dolly herownself standing there
singing it to me. I fell asleep watching Food TV's visit to Dollywood. She
must've seeped into my psyche. All the kids were up, dressed, breakfasted. I was
on schedule. I glanced at the clock, and took a swig from my cup of ambition.
"Okay, kids, get your shoes on!" I trilled. Really, I was Snow Whitesque. I
could hear the birds trilling in response. I pirouetted into the kitchen,
slipped the nutritious lunch I had lovingly packed into the waiting backpack and
surveyed the countertop. I'm back on my flylady kick again. I didn't want to
befoul my shining sink with my mug, so I put it in the dishwasher. Tra-la-la! I
ran the water and flipped the switch for the disposal. CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK!
Frowning, I see the handle of a spoon whipping about in distress in the depths
of the black hole. I silence the grinder, and remove one of the teaspoons that I
paid something ridiculous for on eBay, so that I would have a complete set of my
great-grandma's silverplate. It was pretty chewed up, but I'm okay. I can hit
eBay later and get another. I love me some eBay. I laid it on the shelf above
the coffee pot and as I turned from my kitchen window, I saw a flash of fur in
the yard. Still in my Snow White zone, I assumed it was something cute and
furry. Nope. It was a rat, running along my fence. NOT CUTE! NOT CUTE! Our
neighbors are adding a second story to their house, and since they have had
piles of building materials and debris, there have been a few rat sightings. We
thought we had gotten rid of them all, but they, or at least one of them, is
back. I stroll to the door, and try to convince the dog to chase the rat away.
She laid down and whimpered. I'm feeling less like Snow Freaking White every
second. A glance at the clock reveals that we need to start walking. Now. "Oh,
my darling CHILD-ren," I sing out, "we need to get going. Are you wearing your
shoes?" I hear lots of devious sounding "tee-hees" coming from the living room.
I trot around the corner to find a naked boy, except for the underpants on his
head, and a big girl with four different shoes on, one on each hand and foot.
The youngest was standing behind the other two, hair standing out like a lion's
mane. She beamed at me and said "Hair Down. Aaaaaah!" and shook the ponytail
elastic at me. "Oh, come ON! We don't have time for this, you guys." I am
grumbling now. "We need clothes on, and matched shoes. Where are your shoes?" At
this point, I started hearing Yello's "Oh Yeah" in my head. I spent 5 minutes on
my hands and knees, looking for a matching pair of shoes. We have a designated
shoe drawer by the front door, where all shoes are supposed to be deposited.
Where were the shoes? WHERE WERE THE SHOES? As the minutes ticked by, I was in a
panic. Now we would have to drive to the school. And that would still take time.
I finally found matching shoes for my little offenders, redressed the boy, and
rushed off to school. The dog stayed in the yard, cowering for fear of an
encounter with the rat. We shoulda got a cat. We made it there and back. The
little one is napping, my son is playing dinos, and I'm on my third cup of
ambition. Next up, some weight lifting and trampolining. And then, I figure out
what to do about the rat. Oh, yeah. Ch-ka-ch-ka.