I was on my way to drop Bria at her “school” thinking of all the things I need to get done. I picked up my phone at a stop sign and dialed one of the moms from the school. I’m supposed to read to Arleigh’s class tomorrow. At least, I thought I was supposed to. I called the mom in charge to confirm just that.
This mom kept me on the phone while she thumbed through her notes. She’s not the room mom but insists on keeping watch over the reading list. Somehow, I never got the email that anyone was making the list. I don’t get many of the emails from Arleigh’s class. I’m not sure why other than I’m not on the cool mom list. I may have mentioned that Arleigh was slightly disappointed with me that I had never read to her class. I finally just after Thanksgiving emailed her teacher. I got a reply from “the mom” that all the slots were filled but she had an opening on the 7th. I said fine, I’ll take it. I put it on the calendar…etc. I call this morning to confirm what time to be there. Oh, wait. She didn’t confirm it with the other mom. Someone else may already be reading. She needs to call and find out.
I’m aggravated. Arleigh will be disappointed if I don’t read. I’m thinking about how I’m going to handle it and all the things that need to get done today. I make my last turn toward the church and I see blue lights. Blue lights on a motorcycle. I pull into our church. That’s right, my church where we worship and where Bria attends school twice a week. Everyone was just getting there. I was on time. Awesome. I’m officially going to hell.
The cop comes to my window. My purse was really far behind me. The conversation goes something like this.
“Do you have a driver’s license?”
“Yes, sir but it’s my purse behind the seat, do you mind if I reach for it?”
“Go ahead as long as your not going to pull out an assualt rifle. Ha ha.”
I smile and say, “No, I don’t keep it under the baby’s feet.”
I hand him my driver’s license making sure that the military id is clearly visible. He asks where I’m from. I explain that my husband is in the military but smart guy already knows. He takes my license back to his motorcyle.
He tells me I rolled through a stop sign. I had no idea I did. I apologized told him I had a bad morning and I was in my own little world. I also made vague promised to come to a complete stop next time.
He said he didn’t have any more warning tickets in his book and he let me go. I said an prayer of thanks, hung my head in shame and took Bria into the school. I only got a couple of stares.
So, I’m not a cool mom. I roll through stop signs. I’m going to hell. That about sums it up. If I was a lesser person, I would blame the cool mom but today, even though they’re very stretched out, I’ve got my big girl panties on. I was fully prepared to take my ticket and then cry for the rest of the day because I probably rolled through.