Mother of the Year

I'm not being nominated.
I lost my child today.
I couldn't find Chowhound.

I came home from work.
Nobody home.

Daredevil left a note.
So, I knew where he was.

AH HA! Chowhound has jazz band practice.
Crap. I forgot.
He has to be picked up at 5.
Wipe hand across forehead. Oh good, it's 4:30. I can make it.

Go to school.
Band gone. No Chowhound.
Now, he's in trouble.

Call Daredevil. "Where's Chowhound?"
He went to Bartrum Trail with other band mother to get music.
Oh. Yeah. I knew that. But, I forgot.

So, I wait. and wait. and wait.
No, Chowhound. No phone call.

After, a few hours. I started calling around trying to find Chowhound.
Then, he calls.

"I was at my track banquet."
Crap. I forgot.

I'm definitely not making Mother of the Year.

On the flip side, I wasn't just doing nothing. I was painting Daredevil's bedroom. I was home. He could have called earlier. But, no. Let's make mom feel like crap and let her forget. Guilt it does a mother good.