Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I. AM. THE. MCGRUBERMAMA.

"Mom?" she sings sheepishly as we're getting ready for bed tonight.

"Yes, babe?"

"I need glasses, a shawl, a squirrel mask, and a tail," she rattles off at the speed of light.

"Wha? What? Now? For tomorrow???" I stutter.

"Yep," she bounces off to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Yeah," he chimes in from his bunk. "And I need a red pig's tail."

"FOR TOMORROW?!?!?!?"

"Yep," he hums.

"But it's 7 o'clock," I mutter, my mouth still agape. "And tomorrow's the last day of school. And what do you need them for? And how long have you known about this? BOTH OF YOU GET DOWN HERE IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT THIS MINUTE!"

They exchanged knowing glances, and somehow decided without uttering a word that Saia would take this one for the team and step up to the line. Santiago took two paces back. Evidently, these are the sacrifices you make for being able to hold over his head for the rest of his life that you are actually older, if only by 2 minutes.

So, apparently, the props were needed for the plays they've been rehearsing for the past couple of weeks. They're final performance IS tomorrow morning at 8:15. No reasonable explanation for why or how they managed to forget.

So, my inner McGyver, with which all mothers are blessed, kicks into orange alert. And within minutes, with a tampon and stick of gum...

Okay, no, not really.

But with...

some paper plates, a Hawaiian lei, and red bendaroos,

...we managed to fashion all of the necessary props and still have time to read a chapter of Harry Potter (we started year 5 tonight, Diana).

Sleep tight, my little monsters. The world is safe again.
...