Weekend Woes

So yesterday, Friday night, the kids were supposed to have their dance class. I spend the afternoon rushing the kids. Making them eat an early dinner, getting them dressed in uniform, getting them to class on time only to have no one show up. No one. Ok, well, there were a few other bewildered parents waiting out in their cars.

I took initiative. I got out and went to the building. I open the door. Yes, the door was open. Open door, no one home. I even took a tour of the building. I could've just made off with a crapload of stuff had I wanted to. I wait. The kids start whining and wandering. I ponder the usefulness of those kiddie leashes. Yeah, I know they're 7 and 8, but it's only going to get worse. I remember how appalled I used to be by those harness/leash get ups, but now I think they were onto something.

Ten minutes pass. No one's coming. I make a few calls. No one knows what's going on. No one is showing up. We go. I need to go to the supermarket and pick up baking supplies. Everyone who was supposed to come over last weekend is coming over this weekend. The stupid snowstorm last weekend messed everything up. And I ate all the cookies. So now I need to make more.

The second we step foot into the store, the girl starts whining. She wants dance class. Well, buddy, so do I. It's not happening. The boy starts wondering if I've suddenly become senile because this isn't home. I think the boy is senile because I said in the car-- five times-- that we had to make a run to the store for cookie supplies. I begin to resent the dance teachers, my family, and everyone else in the store and wonder why the hell is the pudding in the cereal aisle?! Do these people know how to plan out a store?

We finally get home. It's seven o'clock and I haven't had dinner yet. I still have my migraine-- for the past 3 days. I'm tired, hungry, achey and in a pisser of a mood. And I have to bake cookies. I ponder running back out to the store for Chips Ahoy or something just to fuck with everyones' minds. I figure that it's not worth it and they might actually think that I just made the world's crappiest cookies. Or worse, they might like them. These people live in bakeries and the only time they eat fresh-baked anything is when I'm the one baking. And so I'm get to stay up until 2 in the morning, again, baking cookies.

At least I got to sleep in this morning. Not that I don't have to rush through food shopping-- why, oh why, didn't I do that last night?-- today because people are coming over tonight. I would tell them to fuck off, but they're bringing the baby. They're evil people who know how to bribe me. I love my family.