Tuesday, October 1, 2013
I shouldn't be blogging. I should be:
1. Folding laundry
2. Grading Kumon books
3. Preparing for mutual: Cupcake Wars, I'm in charge
4. Collecting donations for the Highland High Choir--Do you have $500.00 to spare?
5. Shaving the dog
I even wrote a prioritized list on my cracked-screened iPhone, but lists only get me so far...
I bellyached all morning about how my only purpose in life is to be a laundry digger, baseball uniform finder. "Is that all you need me for?" I grouched at Sam while he brushed his teeth.
"No, Mom. I need you for more than that," he said. I still have not found his baseball shirt.
Last week was Spirit Week at Sam's school. He's my first homie to have ever shown interest in displaying school spirit. I didn't pay attention to the theme of each day, and half the time I wasn't even home to see what he wore because I was subbing at the high school. After school on Wednesday, he came through the door, hair spiked like the lead singer of the Flock of Seagulls. He was wearing Bryce's Neil Diamond T-shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted mesh athletic shorts. I laughed out loud.
"It's the 80s today, right?" I guessed.
That was all I knew about his participation in Spirit Week until the Beehives came over Wednesday night. They said, "Did Sam tell you he dressed up like Ichiro from the Mariners baseball team? He wore the total getup: cleats, socks, pants, authentic Ichiro jersey, and hat. It was really good."
"That's so awesome," I told the girls. "He's been loving Spirit Week, I guess."
"It's not awesome, Sister Suzuki. You know why?"
"Because it was Western Day and Sam thought it was Sports Day."
"Oh, boy! What happened next?" I asked.
"It was so embarrassing, he made the Grizzly News, and he had to tell the whole school how he mixed the days up."
"How's his reputation now? Nerd Herd status?" I asked.
Then the girls laughed and we changed the subject. But, when Sam got home that night, I asked him all about it. I was concerned for his mental health.
"Sam...Sam, tell me about Ichiro. I'm the worst mom for not posting the Grizzly Spirit Week outline on the cork board. Tell me what happened--all details."
"I just got messed up on which day was what, so I wore my baseball uniform on the wrong day. It's not a big deal, Mom," he shrugged.
"What did you do when you got to school and realized the realness of your wardrobe malfunction?"
"At first I told the kids that I had practice after school, but they were all like, 'Then why don't you just change in the car?' So, I knew there was no way around it so I just said: I messed up."
"Do you need therapy?" I asked, half kidding, because, let's be honest, jr. high can kill a child's soul.
He said, "Mom, it's fine. Let's not talk about it anymore."
So that's why I just blogged about it, and now I will be the cause of his therapy.
Now, let's go get our lists done!
P.S. I did ask Sam's permission before I wrote this post.
at 12:59 PM