Mistakes, Mishaps, and Unmentionables

When you highlight the comings and goings of your family, you tend to gloss over the rough stuff. Believe me, we need a lot of gloss. Here are some of our bloopers:

Mistake
June 1st landed on a Monday. That is not good for the calendar-challenged. I have a planner and I use it--though not always effectively. I have shown up to school on the wrong day for D.A.R.E. Graduation; I have forgotten until the last minute that Tritan needed a snack for his Health Enrichment group--(let me tell you trying to find a "healthy snack" in our house 10 min. before the bus comes--Not Easy. Somehow there was a bag of unopened pretzels in the storage room); I have even completely spaced a birthday party Paris was supposed to attend, that I RSVP'd even, only to remember when there was only an hour left (yeah, we skipped that one). But June 1st was probably one of the worst gaffes--that was Apollo's Kindergarten Tea.
I had to RSVP and everything. It was written on the calendar and I was really excited about it. But when June 1st came, I hadn't gotten around to turning the calendar page and forgot completely about it. I could have gone--I was running right past the school at that exact moment, for Pete's sake--but I totally spaced it. It wasn't until Apollo got off the bus and had a name tag on that I remembered.
"I am so sorry," I said, frozen at the foot of the school bus looking at that accusing name tag. Apollo could have cared less. "That OK, Mom" he said, and though I said "I'm sorry" like a thousand times, he kept telling me everything was alright. He made a new friend named Brian and his new class was really neat and he had lots of friends from preschool in his class. He is over the moon about kindergarten. I just feel so bad that he was that poor little kid whose parents were too busy to come; not a very good first impression. I think I might have shut myself in the sun room and cried a little.

Mishaps
We get our mulch in big bags (as opposed to a mound delivered outside our yard). We do this for 2 reasons: a) we don't have a wheel barrow and 2) it's cheaper. The only thing is, you have to open the bags somehow. I suppose you could go for the scissor method; but the bags are plastic and our scissors are dull and who can ever find scissors when you need them, anyhow? No, I go for the hoe method. (And by hoe method, I mean the gardening tool, not the street walker). Just take the sharp corner of the hoe, slash a couple of holes in the top of the bag, and the plastic easily rips from hole to hole. It's quick and easy--painless, really. Unless you happen to hoe your toe. Which of course is what I did. Just whacked myself good. I think I saw stars. I felt like I was going to throw-up. And according to my daughter, apparently swore some ( In the words of Bill Clinton, I don't recall doing that). Luckily I'm not very strong--nothing was broken though I did have a nasty bruise.

Unmentionables
O.K. This event will hereafter be referred to as The Incident That Shall Not Be Named.
I came downstairs one Saturday morning to have a quiet breakfast. Tritan was the only other one awake. I told Brian he could sleep in since he had gotten home late from a trip the night before.
After breakfast, I stepped into the downstairs bathroom. I glanced at the toilet and saw something in there. I know what you're thinking. I thought it too. I thought, "Seriously, what do our kids have against flushing the toilet?!" But then I did a double take, and though it was dark and long, it definitely wasn't poop. So my next thought was, "Seriously, how old do our kids have to be before they stop putting toys in the toilet?!" But then I did a triple take, and that Thing was no toy. Oh, no. It had ears. And a tail. And fur. And my next thought was Screaming Like A Girl, shutting the door, and yelling for Brian like there was a fire.
I have heard of people having mice problems. And honestly, I just feel for them because after all, we lived in the Cockroach Apartment from H***, and I know that pests come despite living like germophobes: bleached counters and weekly pest control sprays and food only kept in the fridge or the oven. When people tell me of their mice problem, I just think, "How awful! Yeah, so how did you get rid of them?" because you never know when it might be you who has the problem. I just didn't realize it would Freak Me Out so completely.
So for the last 2 weeks, I have analyzed every dark crumb, every stray bean, every mysterious piece of lint hanging out in the corner for any mouse dropping characteristics. I have turned off my music and sat in my kitchen, listening for any scratching or scuttling sounds. (After making toasted bread for bread salad, I have learned that bread coming out of the oven continues to pop and crackle while cooling on the rack--did you know this?).
No signs of life have shown up, so my paranoia has lessened somewhat. Brian and I have discussed it, and we have decided that they must have been flushing the pipes that night/day and left us a present. I don't even know if that is feasible, but it sounds like a good story and I'm sticking to it. So now the matter is closed (until we find evidence to the contrary), and I have to warn you, if you bring this up in conversation, I will pretend that I have no idea what you are talking about.