FOUR. HOURS. LATER. and with no wireless anywhere to be found, I was just about ready to pull my hair out. All of it. From anywhere. And I'm Mexican, for crissakes -- I'm covered in it!!!
And, honestly, I mean, no offense to new moms or moms of toddlers 'cause, Lord knows, I was there -- squared, but it was truly a revelation for me to realize that I no longer have that kind of patience. Or maybe it's that I have a different kind of patience now. Like maybe your level of tolerance recalibrates with every new developmental milestone? It must. IT MUST!!! Because right now, I can barely stand 5-to-6-year-olds, let alone the sniveling screaming meamies who, for some karmic reason, were magnetically attracted to me and all my shiny things (Mac, iPhone, camera, keys) all friggin' afternoon.
So, finally, finally, the gods of time let enough of the minutes pass that, hanging on to my very last nervelet, I was able to
screech like a demonic banshee holler through gritted teeth that we were leaving in 5 minutes. And then also informed my kids.
He went running for the slide for one last run. She ran for the climbing rock.
And right there, in the last minute-and-a-half of my time in preschool purgatory, the whole damn afternoon proved totally worth the trouble.
Totally. What an awesome little chickie we've got.