super start to the day

My phone ringing before 7 am is always a dead giveaway. Admittedly most mornings I solve the problem simply by hitting "Ignore", craftily returning the call at a time when it will go straight to voice mail. I realize that lately I've been taking that road of avoidance far too often, so I guilted myself into answering. (What if it's an emergency? Someone's died. Bad news. Need I go on?)

Hi, Mom. (Can you hear the resignation?)

Hello, Dear! How are you doing? (This singsong greeting is always bellowed through the receiver, causing me to speak with the phone hovering 5 to 8 inches away from my ear).

Fine. What's going on? (Mind you, it is 6:56 am. I am currently in the process of wrangling the girls into leaving the house for school. Depending on the morning, I may still be making lunches with the prospect of having to comb two headfuls of unruly, curly hair, finding coats and backpacks and getting them out the door and belted into the back seat of the car all by 7:05 am. Have I mentioned the 35 minute drive to school?)

You finally finished Grandma's memory book! (Implied subtext: Took you long enough. I thought you'd never be finished. That would have ruined Grandma's 80th birthday celebration for sure.)

Yep. What's up? (Cut to the chase, I'm busy here.)

What's going on for you guys this weekend? You know it's your aunt's birthday... Are you guys coming? We haven't heard from you... (You are so lucky you have me to remind you of important family matters. I can hardly imagine how you navigate through life.)

No. We're not driving up. I have a ton of work and a looming deadline. We've got packing. bleh bleh bleh (I cannot contemplate, even for a moment the prospect of the passive-aggressive combat Mitchell and I will engage in over where to stay, how long to hang out with each family group, or the actual experience of being with each family group for any length of time without the ability to escape or control the TV.)

Oh. Well. You need to call your aunt. It's her birthday you know....

I sent her a card. (At this point, I've started to get that feeling. Hostile thoughts flashing around in my head, my jaw begins to tighten, my shoulders creep up to my ears.)

You DID? You're so GOOD! (That's the least you could do if your going to ditch the family gathering.)

I don't even have to include my complete freak out which occurred on the pavement in front of my parking space in the 40 degree semi-dark morning, the girls looking on with little interest as they have, of course, witnessed this type of behavior from me many times before. I shout a curt GOODBYE, MOTHER into phone and yell GET IN THE CAR!

I'm now shouting into the back seat, "BUCKLE YOUR SEAT BELTS! WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE! HURRY UP! HURRY UP! ARE YOU LISTENING?!"

We are finally on the road; the car filled with resentful silence. And I wonder how long until I begin driving my own daughters absolutely insane.