The trip to my folks house from ours is a short one. Three minutes by car, 15–tops, if walking. There is only one stop sign on the way and on the northeast corner of that intersection is Grace’s former daycare center. As soon as we make the U-Turn to head east toward mema & papa’s house, the daycare is visible. This is what the car sounds like:
MAH SCHOOL!!!! Ma SCHOOL!!!! Wook mama! Mama WOOK! Iz Gacie’s school! Iz mah SCHOOL mama! See!?!? You SEE mama?!?! You see mah school?!?! Daz MAH school!!! Daz Gacies school mama!!! You see?!?! You see mama??!! Wook! School!! Gacies’ school! See?!?!
Now replay that about ten times, add in the cutest, sincerest, sweetest, most innocent little voice–now explain to that voice why she’s never going to see her friends or school ever again. Thus began “date night” tonight as we drove the girls to mema & papa’s house. Except we didn’t explain anything, not because we don’t think she’ll understand…because we’re afraid she will. That, and we’re gutless turds.
“I can’t handle this,” Tammy says. “I’m gonna cry.”
“We’re going to have to find another route to mema’s house,” I said, “This is the worst %&$*@’in trip ever.”
“You see mah school mama an mommy?! I go school tomorrow.”
We totally suck.
And to reinforce that fact, we got to replay the whole scenario on the trip home.
But other than that, date night was pretty fun, next time we’ll just have the sitter come to the house.