The piercing shriek cutting through the quiet sleeping house did not bode well for my morning. It was Curly who had seen a bug and was absolutely coming unglued. Propping my eyelids open I started into her sleeping porch then reversed my steps. I would have no success in bug-hunting if I did not first put my glasses on.
Even with the glasses the bug turned out to be too small and fast for my early-morning stupor. Instead of pursuing it, I invited Curly into my bed where she turned on her PBS cartoons and I fell immediately back into slumber.
I woke late; her shows were over and she was struggling into her Super Why costume. I zipped her up then we both headed downstairs where she discovered that the mask was missing. This discovery was akin to the end of the world, I am sure, for her little brown eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip trembled ominously.
Already late, I decided breakfast would once again be cereal bars in the car, not healthy or tidy but definitely fast. To my dismay, the box of cereal bars in the cupboard held only one bar. It would never do to give one kid a bar and deprive the other.
By now, Curly had hunted high and low for her mask, neglecting shoes, potty and coat. She went from poking her head into the toy box to thumping downstairs into the basement to check there. No luck. Of all days, this was the one where the costume needed to be whole and entire. This was PRESCHOOL and her beloved Teacher M MUST see the costume as it was meant to be.
She accosted me again as I came out of the kitchen with the one remaining cereal bar, a banana and a slice of bread in my hands. Now she was really in tears; she had looked absolutely everywhere and nowhere was that mask to be found.
I called Hubby at work. Since he had been the one to remove the costume last night, maybe he knew where that darn mask was. I must have really sounded frustrated because in a wary voice he suggested looking in the car. Adding a sippy cup of water to my load, I took the lot out to the car and there, on the floor of the back seat was the mask!
Back inside I rushed to change Little Mister's soaking overnight diaper, gather coats and shoes and socks, supervise potties and substitute jeans for my own red plaid pajama pants. Neither Curly nor I saw so much as a hairbrush but to my surprise and relief when we finally got out to the car we were only five minutes late. I doled out my offerings of bread, banana and cereal bar, split equally between my two ravenous children and they munched happily while I drove across town.
It was with profound relief that I dropped a joyously dancing Super Curly off into a roomful of bunny rabbits, pixies and bumble bees. Her costume was summarily admired by a blue-and-red caped Super Teacher and I got back in the car with Mister, immediately heading out to get myself a double shot mocha. I felt it was deserved.