And the thunder rolls...

An inauspicious beginning to my day…

Cue the thunder.

And the rain.

And the cold.

Dropping the kids off at school is always a comedy of errors, especially if I attempt to get into the car-rider lane, which pulls up right next to the doors of the school. As opposed, of course, to just dropping them off on the closest street corner to the school that just *happens* to be on my way to refill my Diet Coke cup at Jack in the Box. Like you’ve never done that. Whatevs.

But that doesn’t even come close to dropping the kids off at school in this kind of ‘crap-tastic’ weather. (Why, yes, that *is* my new favorite word, and it is applicable in all sorts of situations… ‘This casserole tastes craptastic.’ ‘The shirt she was wearing was totally craptastic.’ ‘*$%#!... she heard that comment I made about her shirt. That’s just… well, you know.’)

Anyway, I pulled up to the school, the victorious leader of a long line of cars, all waiting to drop off their precious cargo… and I bid farewell to my beautiful children until the afternoon. They must have felt the love as I shouted at them to “Quick!! Get out! Come on… there’s a ton of cars behind me!”

I looked around frantically, hoping that no one that I know saw me with my wonky hair, and my grubby exercise gear that I hadn’t bothered changing out of. I looked back in my rearview mirror at the line of cars, all of which were sitting in the torrential rainstorm, waiting for those dang Linsons to get their act together and GET OUT OF THE VAN!!

Nothin’ doin’.

Evidently, someone had been messing with the child-lock feature on my sliding door.

Which means that it will not open from the inside. Which is a damn skippy invention if you happen to have little ones that mess around with the door handle while you are driving. It does NOT happen to be a good invention at 7:45 in the a.m. (damn… was that the tardy bell?!) in the pouring rain.

Just to double check it, I threw the van in park, unbuckled my seat belt and leaned way over into the back to try to open the door, myself. Since you know... I’m not a child and the lock should just instinctively KNOW that, and open for me. Mmmhmmm. So, yeah.

“Okay, quick! You’ll just have to get out on my side and walk around. Come on, you won’t get that wet. I love you! Have a great day!”

And that’s when I sit back in the driver’s seat and realize that the male crossing guard who was helping out by directing traffic, has been standing next to my driver’s side window the entire time.

And…that my spandex-clad butt has been up in the air, practically plastered against my window as I’ve been on my knees in the front seat, leaning over and frantically trying to open the door in the back.

I can only hope he was already half-blinded by the pouring rain. Because if not, he probably is now. ;)