So, the other day I got that text message all parents dread.
Can you pick me up from school? I have a headache and I can't concentrate. Can probably make it through the day, but would rather be home. Sure, no probs kid, but it's Build Club Day here at work and I'm making lunch for the guys. Let me see if THE MAN can do it. The text back was no can do, staff meeting. So having drawn the short straw, as soon as I was able to break away, I ran up to the school.
Now, keep in mind we may have had a small fire in the backyard to keep us warm. We are in town and not supposed to necessarily have one, but it was during the day and we had some wood to burn. Since I like a good fire, I might have smelled like bon-fire smoke and also quite possibly had singed my bangs getting too close.
Of course on the way across town I looked in my rear view mirror. Dammit. I looked like a bridge troll. I thought the bangs might be salvageable if I brushed them (while at stop lights) and then pushed them up with my sun glasses. Ran with that method. Couldn't fix the extremely ratty sweatshirt, soot stains on my face, or jeans that are only for yard work. See, we were getting down and dirty at the
Habitat House and my friend had just dropped off a dump trailer. Since the house had burned in the back, we had a ton of burnt wood full of nails to have hauled off and were in full whip this house into shape mode.
See, we're at that really cool tipping point where the house goes from being a shell full of possibility to morphing into a real house as the walls are being mudded at this very moment. The transformation is stunning, but also if you are in the midst of working on it, you can see the end in sight which involves flooring, kitchen cabinets, lights, and all the trim. The frosting if you might.
Pull into the school and try to buzz in. People in office are suspicious of crazy bridge troll lady so spend a couple minutes thinking about it. Finally in, I ask nicely for Luke since he's sick. Is he in the nurse's office? No, not sure lady where exactly he is. This is your place where you keep him, not mine.
It was at this the very point I got the lecture about kids going to the nurse first, not texting, blah blah blah. I had forgotten he's still in middle school where we monitor their every move and don't trust them. Since I gave that whole line of thought up years ago since both of my kids are very trust worthy and I know Luke has good habits with his phone, I smiled and listened all the while hoping she wasn't looking at my bridge troll hair and would just hurry up.
First lady being done chewing on me, I get to move on to the second lady who is actually trying to find him. She gives the same lecture because well, why not. Finally they give up and suggest I text him. I retreat with my bridge troll self to the car to nurse my wounds. THE MAN asks later why I hadn't just lied and said he had an appointment. The hair I explain. I was too worried about being judged for looking like a bridge troll.
Of course Luke has no trouble escaping because once he shows up, they realize he's the tall quiet one that is never in trouble and extremely polite. Oh Honey. Make sure you go to the nurse next time. Or the other possibility being they felt extremely sorry for him due to the short straw he drew for having a bridge troll for a mother.
P.S. The hair is fine, thanks for asking.
P.P.S. One should not judge bridge trolls, just sayin.
P.P.P.S No pink hair was harmed in the great burned bangs incident of 2017, which is good because Kristen who does my hair might not be pleased.