Today I took the younger two to the dentist.
I wrote a note for each of their schools and put them in fluorescent orange envelopes, reminding each kid that the envelope needed to be turned in that morning and reinforcing the time by thorough cross examination.
Rocky turned in his pass first thing. The office gave him a pass stating what time, and the secretary actually backed it up by five minutes so he would have extra time to get his things, but Rocky waited for his last period teacher to somehow, by teacher superpowers I guess, to discern not only that Rocky needed to leave, but the actual time. Finally, he told his teacher, "I have to leave." He did not show her the pass. She said, "Well, go make sure." So he did.
Meanwhile, I showed up ten minutes early for Rocky. The school secretary and I made our customary wager about what part of this process Rocky would mess up. The five-minutes-before time came and went. She and I nodded knowingly at each other. The real pickup time came and went. I laughed, as she thought he would get this part. Finally Rocky came down the hall, five minutes past his pickup time and looked into the office at me. "Should I go get my stuff?" he asked.
I blinked at him, dumbfounded. "Oh," he said, and left. Five minutes after that, he was at the office, personal belongings hanging off various parts of his body. I said to the secretary, "Do you suppose he'll get it by the end of the year?"
"Nah." I rolled my eyes and fussed at Rocky, as the high school students had by then been dismissed and we had to participate in the back driveway demolition derby on the way to get Nita.
I liked the dentist--he got it that I bought dental floss which got used up but was most likely used to make parachute strings for army guys. Not everyone understands that--they seem to think that my mom superpowers can control the inventory around here.
Anyway, Rocky went in first. The dentist came out and announced that Rocky needed braces. "I was afraid of that," I said.
Then Nita went in. The dentist came out and said, "I think you're going to need a family plan." Not only that, but even though Nita is three years younger, she needs "early intervention," which means all three kids are going to be in braces at the same time. Kiki thought this was great--misery loves company and all that, you know.
Goody. Three kids with attentional issues and increased dental care. I may join the army guy in throwing myself out of a plane.