Sunday, August 22, 2010

Check [Card], Please

Cruising down the road with the windows open listening to Katy Perry sing Hot & Cold. We pull into the parking lot of the grocery store and I hear my dear Little Man say something so I turn down the music. "What?" I yell into the back seat as my eyes zero in on a prime parking spot that is close to the door, as well as the cart corral. (Score!)

"Do you have your check card?" I'm not sure I heard him correctly, so I ask "What?!" again.

The poor boy is now frustrated that he's being asked to repeat himself for a third time, so he sighs heavily and slowly says, "Mom! I said, do you have your check card?"

"Huh? Why would you ask? Of course, I have it." I'm genuinely puzzled. The wee ones often come up with random questions about the odd thoughts flitting around their head. I mean these children of mine are all geniuses! Right?! They are always, always thinking of something but it's usually how-many-Lincoln-Logs-tall-am-I or can-a-snail-bite-me or can we have cotton candy for lunch already - Jeez!

So the Little Man says, "You forget it a lot."

No, I don't. Oh wait! Oh my goodness... he's right!

I turn off the engine, now that I'm parked in my super sweet never-get-this-lucky-on-a-Saturday-spot and grab my huge "five-day-bag" (as Husband -- and now the children -- likes to refer to my purse) that I carry everywhere. I check the outside smaller pocket, then the second larger pocket and then small, inside third pocket. Finally sighing at myself, I check my wallet where it's most likely to be. Then I see it, perfectly clear, in my mind's eye. It's sitting on the kitchen counter next to my drivers license next to the sink. I had put it in my pocket this morning to go on a walk with the children and I meant to put them back in my wallet and, of course, didn't.

I spin around and look straight at him. He stares back at me with huge, blue eyes and looks slightly alarmed. "Oh man! I forgot it!" I say.

He starts to laugh. He keeps laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing... until, even Big E (who was sitting in the far back seat, minding her own business reading Harry Potter Book Umpteenth AGAIN) looks up and begins laughing. She may not know why she's laughing but Little Man is so hysterical that she joins in... Even I end up laughing, knowing that I'll have to park clear on the other end of the lot when we come back. (Damn it!)

He's starting preschool shortly. In a real brick building with real teachers and new faces and hot lunch. I worry about him some days, but I think he'll be just fine.

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