My 9-year old stood at the kitchen counter pushing a turkey pepperoni and cheese bun sandwich into a plastic bag. “Oh,” I said, “You made your sandwich!” Last night, I scavenged in the kitchen, rather desperately looking for something appropriate to put in his lunch. I came up with a homemade banana muffin, corn puffs from Trader Joe’s, and a bun which I intended to turn into a sandwich. (I have no bread.) As an afterthought I added a Milky Way bar, clearly a nutritional disaster, but I wanted his first day of fourth grade to have a fun lunch. And I had not planned ahead very well.

I spread out all the school supplies on the floor last night at 9 p.m. and checked them against the list as I added them to his gigantic backpack, one with wheels and a handle. I filled it to the brim, lacking only the appropriate number of pencils because I am an admitted pencil snob and I only buy Ticonderoga and the best place to buy them is Costco because you can get a bunch for not so much money. And we need a bunch of pencils because they disappear into the swirling vortex of the black hole that is my house and, no, I have no idea how that happens. Today, I’m going to Costco and I am buying pencils, among other things.

My daughter and I drove my son to school, through a mini-traffic jam in our smallish town. We parked and walked toward the building. The sun shone on their blond heads and I grabbed my camera to capture this moment. And luckily, no one was hit by a car.

To Do List for First Day of School

1) Take kid to school.

2) Drink Diet Dr. Pepper because Diet Coke is gone.

3) Post here, there and everywhere on blogs. (Okay, that second link wasn’t today, but I never mentioned it before today.) (And please, click on “there” because, as I keep mentioning, that blog pays money . . . and maybe you’ll want to join the Fitday Challenge?)

4) Postpone actual writing assignment (four devotionals, if you must know) that is due on Saturday. Procrastination is my middle name.

5) Go to Costco. Buy pencils, string cheese, milk, bread, Kashi granola bars, strawberries and so much other stuff that the receipt shocks me. Buy Diet Coke at snack bar. Fifty-five cents!
6) Unload groceries.

7) Pick up kid from school.

. . . and the rest of the day is blurry, but I think it will involve the swimming pool and more procrastination until finally at 10 p.m., I get myself together and WRITE THE DEVOTIONALS.

The end.