it's official

I am the worst soccer mom in the neighborhood, if not the whole state.

Yesterday, the Great complained of a sore throat, was whiny and cried when I yelled at him for not coming to dinner on time - this is significant because the kid could be yelled at by a marine and he'd say something snotty like say, "But, Mr Mariiiine, I'm watching my power ranger shoooowww." He also usually is at the table and is asking for seconds before I get to sit down.

This morning he said it was ok, he seemed ok, went to school ok, and I commmenced upon shopping with Punkinhead ALL DAY. But did I ever once feel his forehead? No.

About 1 pm, just about the time the Great was laying limply in the nurse's office at school, cheeks flaming, crying because they couldn't find Mommy, I noticed my cell phone was dead.

Fortunately my neighbor brought him home and put him to bed. He's asleep and alll sweaty and hotter than hell.

Poor baby.

And no, I wasn't Christmas shopping at the mall, really. I was just wandering and buying some stuff for me. Next time your old mum lays a massive guilt trip, just remember - she's got lots of guilt to go around. She's only trying to share the wealth.

Bad Mommy. Bad, bad mommy.

*sigh* I'm not even in the mood for M&Ms.

2 comments:

Number Mouth said...

I gotcha beat kid. I'm a mess.

Anonymous said...

An epilogue: tonight I went to the gym and they asked me if The Great was feeling better. How the hell did they know he was sick? Because someone called the gym looking for me yesterday when my wittle baby was sick.

I suck.

But I make damn good fudge.