NaBloPoMo

I had one job.

“Mom! How could you forget about us?”

“Mommy! We were the last ones at school!”

“Thanks a lot, Mom.”

It happened. I forgot to pick up my kids from school.

Six solid years picking up my kids from school and today is the day I sucked as a mom. I’ve had days where I sleep in and they’re late to school. That’s to be expected of a night owl and owlet children.

But I’m never late picking them up. School is out at 3:40 p.m. and I’m there. If I can’t be there, I arrange for someone else to be there.

There was no arrangement. I rolled into the parking lot at 3:55 p.m. half expecting child protective services to be waiting for me. My reason for forgetting my kids – I was reading a book.

The book is called, “My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry: A Novel” by Fredrik Backman.

It’s about a 7-year-old girl, Elsa. Elsa’s grandma is dying. On her deathbed, she asks Elsa to deliver letters for her after she’s gone. Each letter apologizes to people her grandmother wronged.

I was on a waiting list at the library for this book. I waited two months before the library notified me that the book was ready. I picked it up about three weeks ago. Long story, short – I started the book this morning. I realized it’s due back tomorrow. I opened my library app to renew the book and it said I couldn’t  renew. There’s a waitlist and it’s due tomorrow. No exceptions.

“Speed read day” turned into “forgetting about the kids at school day” turned into “the library asked me to tell you they’re sorry for your mom sucking, kids” turned into “I’m sorry I don’t have time to even write this blog post.”

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