I had to drive in the snow yesterday.
I didn’t have a choice.
I had to go to Tommy’s Parent/Teacher conference.
I was afraid. I hate driving in the snow.
Tom was unsympathetic as he left for work.
“It’s not bad. Deal with it.”
It’s easy for him to say since he has a gigantic truck.
I just have a tiny hybrid.
I was a little nervous when I first started out. I was gripping the wheel so hard that my knuckles were white.
“Are you okay, Mommy?” Tommy asked from the backseat.
“Mommy is great!” I squeaked.
“Are we going to die?” Tommy wondered.
“No. Not at all!” I was still speaking in a high-pitched tone. The snow was coming down at full force and the roads were icy. Oh, and my car was yelling at me because I wasn’t driving in an eco manner.
“I can’t! It’s snowing!” I snapped at the display. It doesn’t really yell. The display just turns this irritating shade of blue. I’m beginning to hate the color blue because of it. It’s all happy and green when you’re driving in a “green” manner. But heaven forbid you have to push on the gas!
When I finally made it to the school my eco score was pretty low. Yup, you get scored on how well you drive. “You stupid car! It’s snowing!” I said again. I know it can’t hear me. But I was on edge.
Basically, Tommy is doing really well in school. He got an excellent report card. He got all 3s, which means that he’s proficient in all areas. He’s still a few levels down where he should be in reading but on everything else, he’s in the normal range. I breathed a sigh of relief when the teacher told me this. I’ve always worried about Tommy. Probably since he was two and we realized he was speech delayed. He was never able to sit still in preschool and in Kindergarten he had all sorts of meltdowns. But now…now he’s doing great.
“He has some of the best manners I’ve ever seen,” the teacher added. “He always tells me ‘Bless you’ if I sneeze, always says ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’”
I sat up proudly when she said that. I’ve always taught my kids manners from the beginning. It’s probably why Natalie screams, “No THANKS!” if she doesn’t want to do something.
“And Tommy doesn’t tell….inappropriate jokes at school?” I asked the teacher cautiously. At home he likes to talk abut his butt. I have no idea why.
“Not at all,” the teacher assured me.
I guess the butt jokes are just a treat for me then. Nice.
So after that I had to drive back home in the snow.
Thankfully I made it home safely.
I had planned on going to Wal-Mart but there was no way I was driving in that weather. So I called Tom and said when he got off work that we’d all go.
“The roads aren’t bad!” Tom argued.
“Yes. For a TRUCK!” I shot back.
“Oh fine. I can pick up my pie things,” Tom agreed. (He’s obsessed with these little apple pies.)
So we went to Wal-Mart and I picked up a cake.
“What’s that for?” Tom wondered. He’s a little strange. He thinks that there always has to be a reason for cake.
“For your mother’s visit, of course!” I quickly said. I mean, why not?
I had the Wal-Mart worker write, “Welcome Grandma” on the cake.
“Oh. Is your Mom coming to visit?” the baker asked me as she scrolled out the words with frosting. Mmmmm. I wonder if I could swipe one of those frosting containers and run off with it…
“No. It’s my husband’s Mom,” I answered.
The baker looked up with a start, just as the cashier from yesterday had done. “Your mother in law?” She hissed the word as though it were naughty.
“Yes. But don’t worry, I get along with her.”
The baker raised an eyebrow. “People can get along with their mother-in-laws?”
I shrugged. “Apparently so!”
When I got the cake back, I set it in the cart and said to Tom, “That’s the second person I’ve met who’s surprised that I get along with my mother-in-law. It’s not so strange. I mean, you get along with my mother.”
Tom made a face. “Actually....” he began jokingly.
I smacked him lightly on the shoulder and he laughed.
“Okay! I do! But in the beginning I thought your mom was nuts!” He only thinks this because one time he came over for dinner and my Mom didn’t have sour cream. We were having tacos and apparently it’s his rule that you MUST have sour cream with tacos. So when Mom said, “Oh, we don’t use that,” he sort of blinked in surprise.
He later told me he wanted to yell, “NOOOOOOOO!” with his hands in the air.
He really loves his sour cream. He pays extra for it at Taco Bell even if we have some in the fridge.
Yes, this bugs me.
So anyhow, as I’ve mentioned before, my Mother-in-law comes Friday (if this snow lets up!) and I’ve been cleaning like mad. Tom has been stretched on the couch and when I shrieked, “Are you going to HELP?” he went, “Help with WHAT?” and I went, “Your mother’s VISIT!” He looked positively gobsmacked as though he’s never heard of the concept of anal cleaning when a visitor comes.
She’s here until Wednesday so if I’m not on that much, it’s because I’m entertaining.
And, you know, snacking on the delicious potato salad that she makes.
Rumor also has it that she’s going to make cookies....