This article, entitled It’s Tough To Be A Kid (And A Mom In The Drop-Off Line) comes from Courtney Rubin at partner site Embracing the Insanity.
I pride myself on being the parent who follows the rules in the car drop-off/pick-up line. I try to be quick and get the kids situated so that we don’t hold up the line. Well, the other day, I got a taste of what it is like to be “that car” that keeps everyone else from getting on with their day. To be fair, it was not on purpose that we took a little longer than expected. Here’s what happened:
We pull up to the circular drive that exists solely for dropping off children in the morning (and I timed the drive perfectly so the kids could just walk right to class – pat on the back to me). As the poor, unsuspecting patrol girl opens our van door, my daughter suddenly realizes that the line of kids who were dropped off early and forced to wait in the cafeteria hasn’t made it to the door that leads to the hallway of classes yet. This means that if she is fast as lightning, she can be line leader when they open the doors! SCORE!
Madness ensues as she gets stuck in her car seat and she is doing her best contortion act to try to get out without actually unbuckling the seatbelt. HOLD STILL YOU SILLY GIRL AND THINGS WILL ACTUALLY GO FASTER, I wanted to scream!!! (cut to me standing in my driver seat and leaning over to reach her seat with my backside packed into my tight jeans in full view of the side window for all to see – attractive). She finally escapes but trips getting out and almost lands right on the patrol. I think she hit her knee on the floorboard and it probably hurt, but she was on a mission so no time for pain. She was gone without so much as a quick look back.
At this point all of the cars that had stopped in front of us were gone, so I motioned for my son to quickly make his way out too. He starts to walk toward the door from his seat in the back row and I notice that his fly is down. I quietly told him to hurry up and fix it before he got out so he wouldn’t be embarrassed and, naturally, it got stuck on the fabric (luckily nothing else) halfway up. He then WOULD NOT get out until I was able to fix it – oh the shame that would befall him should he actually just go to the bathroom before class and fix it himself.
The poor patrol tried to avert her eyes as I once again got up in my seat to lean over and tactfully try to fix the zipper that was stuck in the awkward place. I finally got it unstuck without hurting any unmentionables when my younger son threw his cup at my head. Ow. As I settled back into the driver’s seat, my older son started to get out and he tripped too. First his fly was down, this his mom’s butt was shoved in full view of everyone TWICE and now his friends have seen him fall out of the car (he is definitely my son) – THE HORROR! He tried to mask the pain of the bruise that will obviously come by pimp-walking to the door and pointing out his new haircut while trying to keep cool.
Then the poor patrol shyly looked back to see if I had any more clumsy kids to deposit at/on her feet – luckily, the little one stays with me right now – and she quickly shut the door…but not all of the way because that would be too easy. So, as I started to pull around the bend, my “door open alert” sound started going off. Once again, I had to stop, climb over the seat and shut the door before life could go on. We really should have sprung for the automatic door when we got this stupid van. I am too old for this.
In all actuality, the whole drop-off process probably only took about 2 minutes total, but if you have ever been a parent in the line waiting for the slow person ahead of you, you know that 2 minutes feels more like 3 hours. I apologize to those behind me and I promise that I will check the flies of my children in advance from this point on. I will also do my best to keep my rear out of the window (does this van make my butt look big?).
So looking forward to picking them up in the afternoons!