Determined to maintain some sense of control over the gazillion pieces of paper that will come home from school this year, I bought three-ring binders for each child to organize the collection of items received from each class.
The three binders in various fun colors bring untold joy, delighting me in a way that is almost unhealthy. Releasing my three-hole punch from its holster, I attack loose pieces of paper from backpacks in a similar manner I swat at the fruit flies the local Kroger sent home as a bonus with my cantaloupe.
Ask me for a class list for a particular child and I will dazzle you with my cat like reflexes, flipping open a notebook to the exact spot requested. Need the classroom schedule? My hands are a blur as I thumb through to that section almost as quickly as I find 2nd Corinthians when challenged to Bible Sword. Disorderly documents are not going to happen on my watch, because this year, WE WILL BE ORGANIZED.
Or so I thought.
Driving to school this morning, we suddenly realized that Chase forgot to complete the previous night’s homework. The assignment was minimal, requiring that he bring a handful of leaves to school for a project. On my recommendation the day before, as I am an ALL STAR PARENT, I told him to enjoy playing outside with his friends and then grab the leaves needed for the assignment the next morning. (My notebooks were APPALLED.)
That plan was clearly flawed as we found ourselves the next morning at a busy intersection without the required leaves. Turning around for home would guarantee a tardy, and arriving to school without the assignment screamed of DISORGANIZATION.
Glancing to my right, I spotted the solution to our dilemma.
I pulled into the parking lot of a CVS pharmacy, Chase jumped out of the car and I nervously watched as my son gathered leaves from a puny tree and a sticker bush to complete his assignment.
So the situation begs, have the notebooks failed me, or have I failed the notebooks? Do tell.