“Y’all, I had the most outrageous morning ever. Let’s jump right in.
Every Wednesday, my son’s preschool has Show and Tell to work on the ‘letter of the week.’
Last week, for example, the letter was ‘H.’
Nugget brought a headlamp to school.
‘This is my HEADlamp. Huh-huh-headlamp.’
You get the picture.
Now, I’m not the most organized mom in the world. So this morning, I woke up like, ‘OH CRAP, it’s Wednesday?! What’s the letter of the week?’
*scrambles through paperwork*
‘Nugget, quick! Go find something that starts with the letter D. Like duh-duh-DEE. Go!’
Nugget came back rather quickly with his favorite Spider-Man umbrella.
‘How about dis umbrella?’
‘Umbrella starts with the letter U. Uh-uh-umbrella.’
He shakes his head vehemently.
‘No, mommy—DIS umbrella.’
I’m trying not to pee my pants and embarrass him, and also I’m still hustling to pack his lunch, so I’m like:
‘Well that’s pretty close, kiddo! But ‘this’ is T-H. TH-TH-THIS.’
Looking slightly dejected, Nugget sets his umbrella aside.
‘Try again, baby. The letter D. Like duh-duh DINOSAUR.’
His eyes light up and he goes ‘OOOOOH! Let me outside, Mommy. I know JUST THE THING!’
This is where I tell you for the last three days, I’ve been complaining our porch smells horrible. And my husband has nodded his head like, ‘Uh, huh. Right. Smelling things again, honey?’
Which is also how he denies his farts, but anyway…
We go outside and Nugget immediately runs to his secret chair where he keeps his ‘collection.’
Rocks, bugs, etc. You know how kids are.
He points down and exclaims:
‘How ‘bout MY DEAD BIRD! DUH-DUH DEAD BIRD!’
And he’s reaching and I’m screaming and dry heaving and:
‘OH MAH GAHD SON, don’t touch it! HAVE YOU TOUCHED IT? HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD THIS?’
I am ready to bleach everything in sight including my son and his bloated dead bird, and now we are late for preschool and still have no Show and Tell.
‘Go get your doggy. Duh-duh DOGGY. Go inside and get a stuffed doggy right NOW. Make it quick.’
He ran inside with his mouth all twisty because I am the worst mother ever for saying he can’t bring a bird’s corpse to preschool for Show and Tell.
And I’m flinging the dead bird over our fence, dry heaving, and wondering what the heck else is in this collection when he returns, carrying something fluffy.
‘Mommy, how about DIS animal?’
I breathe in deep. It’s either a dog or a cat, but who cares—it isn’t rotting flesh, so I approve his selection and off to preschool we go.
Twenty minutes late.
The letter D, y’all.
As in, today, Mommy is DONE.“
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Mary Katherine Backstrom. Follow Mary on Instagram here. Submit your story here, and be sure to subscribe to our best stories here.
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‘Some days, I make myself the butt of the joke. I tell self-deprecating stories. Other days I wonder if I’ll only ever be the butt of the joke. Nothing more.’: Woman discusses ‘heights and the heartache’ of life
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