Dear God...it's me again.

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The following interaction played out one random weekday afternoon.
Names have been changed to protect…
to protect…
who am I kidding, I protect only my punks and they don’t know any proper names of their school mates mamas!

As I hop outta my sleek, all black SUV and head up the driveway of daycare mama’s house,
“Hi, have a good night” she-devil girl’s mama!
No I did not refer to her as that…OUTLOUD. I used my inside voice, it is best that way. Really.
She-devil girl’s mama replies, somewhat chuckling, “I feel badly for daycare mama—she has a migraine and your son is in there screeching at a high pitch cry about not getting something he wants”. And with that, she walks away.
I walk into the house and sure enough, punk #1 is in tears and making full use of his lung capacity. I calm him down and apologize to daycare mama, it is indeed apparent that she is in some head pain. She dismisses the apology…”it’s all good” she says.

We leave, the punks and I. But we do not leave with our heads held down. You may have gotten this one she-devil girl mama, kudos to you. But when you make your nightly prayers tonight, just what will you be thankful for? The opportunity to get one over on me or the blue Mazda minivan with the bashed in front fender, missing rear side window (ever so cleverly replaced with cardboard and duct tape), and spare donut mishappedly replacing the read tire?

I admit my mouth may get me into some trouble from time to time, for these moments I offer up my apologies to the dear Lord above us. And I realize that I may not necessarily be guaranteed a spot in heaven immediately upon my earthly departure, but at least my ride to the top will be a comfortable and less than unsightly one. LOL.

Dear Lord, better pen in some extra time for me tonight, you and I have a lot of talking to do.

Seriously.

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