A belated but sincere L'SHANA TOVAH to one and all -- may you all be
inscribed in the book of life for many long, happy, and healthy years!
Uncle Brian done went and screwed up.
Luckily for me, the story has a happy ending. :-)
Every year, the Pipsqueak's school has a special 1-day morning program in which dads can accompany their kids on a "fitness course" set up inside the school. There are stations featuring different tests of coordination and/or fitness, and instructions on how to move from one to the next (e.g., hop on one foot, zig-zag down the hall, etc.). There's also free bottled water & healthy snacks available at the end, along with a couple of extra minutes for inter-generational bonding before the kids all have to go to class. The school's done a good job of trying to be inclusive by specifically mentioning dads, uncles, stepdads, grandpas, and general "father figures" on the handout for each year's event (and they're still working on appropriately decreasing exclusiveness).
Last year, Miri & I had a lot of fun with it so we were both looking forward to this year's event. Sooooo of course I managed to get myself myself sick again (too much doing, too little sleeping, and way the [bleep] too much stress for too long), so my ability to participate in this year's program was questionable. Despite still periodically losing my voice, needing 1-2 naps a day, and having to be a mouth-breather multiple times daily, on Wednesday evening I told Miri I was planning to participate and her face lit up like a thousand-watt bulb.
I set FOUR alarms and went to bed early... and suddenly could. NOT. fall. asleep. Somewhere around 4:00am, the room finally faded to black. I remember the first alarm going off at 7:00 and thinking, "Oh, good, I have an hour to get there..."
...and the next thing I remember is being re-awakened from an astonishingly weird dream by the combined sounds of my iPhone's klaxon alarm, the loud beeping of my clock radio, the phone next to my bed ringing, and the phone's talking Caller ID feature announcing AJ's cell phone number.
The event began at 8:15 and the last group would be allowed through at 8:40. I rolled over to answer the phone and saw a big blue-green "8:18" on the face of my clock radio.
I live about 20 minutes from the school.
I tried to simultaneously get out of bed, put on a pair of jeans, and run a razor over my face without letting go of the phone. AJ doubted that I could make it to the school on time but I told her I needed to at least try. I called from the halfway point and her prognosis had improved from "impossible" to "unlikely" so I redoubled my efforts (i.e., went from driving like an Indy driver to calling Engineering for Warp 8) and cussed my way past slower-moving drivers, through yellow lights, and around curves at what I have to admit was an exhilarating rate of of forward motion.[1]
I called AJ's cell phone again as I maneuvered into a spot miraculously available right in front of the school but she didn't answer. Even more worried, I jumped out of the car and ran toward the front door....
...and encountered my sister coming back out after sending a very, very unhappy little girl into class because the event had been declared over while I was parking.
Panting from my short run, I asked how badly I'd screwed up. AJ's answer started clearly but became muffled after just a few words. Then the sidewalk began to change shape, and a cloud blocked the sun. I put my hand on a nearby signpost to steady myself, and for a moment I thought it was too flimsy and was bending away from me... then realized that none of the above was happening anywhere outside the confines of my head so I held up a hand to AJ, closed my eyes, and leaned on the signpost while gripping it more tightly.
It's good to have a sister who's a trained clinical social worker; she reacted calmly, asked the right questions, and stood by ready to help without drama or unnecessary action. It took a few minutes, but eventually the signpost stopped warping and the sidewalk stopped squirming under my feet so I cautiously opened my eyes and found there were no clouds in the sky. I still had a little trouble catching my breath but the world was slowly returning to normal.
Still panting, I realized that if I'd participated in the fitness events I probably would have been laying spread-eagled on my face in the middle of a school hallway. I should not have promised Miri that I'd participate in something so active when I knew that just walking up the stairs had been leaving me breathless due to congestion (and probably shouldn't have thought of bringing my lovely little URI into an elementary school in the first place).
But I did, and she'd been really really really excited about it, and I screwed up, and now I could clearly hear AJ telling me that the Pipsqueak had been in tears when the event ended and I had still not shown up. Her next statement came through crystal-clear: "You owe her big time."
I didn't disagree. We went over everyone's schedule and came up with zero available time for at least two weeks and then AJ mentioned she really did need to get to work. After I reassured her I felt OK and would just sit in my air-conditioned car for a few minutes to make sure I was able to drive safely, she headed off to where she'd parked and I did as I'd promised. She drove past me a couple of minutes later but I continued to sit, feeling very annoyed with myself over both promising to do what I couldn't and then breaking the promise.
Just as I came to realize that I had done a much worse job of parking than I originally thought (Dude, aren't your wheels supposed to be less than two feet from the curb on a major road...?) I had a mini-revelation: I was taking Mom & Dad to a PT appointment that ended around lunchtime but had nothing on my schedule afterwards (something that subsequently turned out to be only partly correct)... Hmm... I called AJ to check on her schedule for the evening and said I wanted to take the Pipsqueak on a dinner date as part of my apology. She thought it was a great idea and let the after-care crew know Uncle Brian would be picking up Miri instead of Mommy (and to let it be a surprise).
Fast-forward through an increasingly complicated day (and a desperately needed 90-minute nap) and just as I was leaving the house, a traffic alert came through saying the road I needed was blocked by an accident. Thinking, Yeah, it's that kind of a day, I headed to the school as quickly as traffic allowed and was happily shocked to discover the alert was totally wrong. I walked in to find Miri working on an art project, and she looked up at me, gave me a fleeting smile, and then looked back down. Not a good reaction.
One of the counselors said, "Hey, look who's here to pick you up!" and got a terse, "I know, I'm not blind!" that left the two of us looking at each other in surprise. (I'd expect that kind of response from a high schooler... but a kid in 3rd grade? Yikes!) I walked over, sat down opposite my niece while she studiously ignored me, and explained that I was very sorry, that I knew I messed up in the morning and was very annoyed with myself about it, and that as part of my apology I wanted to take her out on a dinner date.
That last phrase got a quick stare, a big smile, and a happy, "REALLY?" and suddenly everything was good in the world again. She finished the art project, then dragged to the back of the room to help pick up her stuff, then practically dragged me out the door. I spent the next 15 minutes sitting in the car getting bombarded by a rapid-fire description of how she was unhappy in the morning but felt better by lunch and she did some stuff in school today and her wiggly tooth is really loose but won't come out and one of the kids was making silly comments at lunch and her wiggly tooth is really loose but won't come out and her mouth feels weird because of the wiggly tooth and is Mommy home or still at work and and and... (You get the idea.)
I texted AJ & our folks so they'd know all was OK and eventually stopped the flow of verbiage from the back seat long enough to decide we would go to IHOP for pancakes. Miri was equally verbose aaaalllllll the way there so I knew she was happy, and the restaurant was nearly empty so we had almost no wait for our food. True to form, she finished one of the kids' platters with a side of bacon, then an adult-sized side of bacon and another scrambled egg, then about 1/3 of my short stack before deciding she was full, all while talking absolutely NONSTOP (mostly about that wiggly tooth) with an occasional break to try out a new game on my iPhone.
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| That plate was clean 6-1/2 minutes later! |
I owed her big time but, at least this time, the bill's paid in full. :-)1 - Was I driving fast? Heck, yeah -- but not as insanely as it might sound. I stopped at any light I didn't think I could get through before it had turned red, stopped at every stop sign, kept decent separation, and made neither tires nor brakes squeal even once. Meanwhile, I witnessed one car run a stop sign in front of me, a 2nd run a red light in front of me, and a 3rd run over the curb when trying to make a turn, all driving "safely." Judge me if you want, but I have neither death wish nor desire to maim others and I know the limits of my & my vehicle's abilities.
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