Mother Of The Year

As I was walking my son home from school one fall Friday last year, I mentioned “Dad’s coming home from work early tonight. We need to make sure we’re ready to leave the house when he gets here.”

“Cool!” was his cheerful reply. When we got his sister from school, he announced with great glee “We need to be ready by 5 o’clock! Dad’s coming home early!” Girl-child said “Cool!”

At 5pm, the kids scrambled for their shoes. And combed their hair? But who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth. My husband pulled  into the driveway, and the kids tumbled over each other to get into the car. I don’t think I’d ever seen them so cooperative. As my husband joined us, I learned why.

“Dad!” said one. “We’re going out for dinner!” “And ice cream!” piped the second. Wait, what?

Oh. Did I not tell you kids? I never said we’re going to dinner. We’re getting flu shots. I must have left that part out.