Life as Mikie's Mom

Here is what happened today when I picked Mikie up from camp:

Mom approaches door of school. Door is locked. Mom rings doorbell and waits for teacher to let her in. Teacher comes to door. Conversation ensues:

Teacher: "Mikie gave me quite a scare today. . ."

Mom: realizing Mikie had a swim lesson "Ugh. Did he almost drown again?"

Teacher: looking at me like I was crazy "No, he locked himself in the bathroom."

Mom: laughing "Oh. Sorry, he does that at home too. Did he tell you he needed 'privacy'? I usually keep a key above all the doors so that I can pick the lock."

Teacher: "I was trying to figure out, can I shimmy this with a credit card? But I had no way to get it open. I was screaming, 'Press the button'!"

Mom: "He always opens it eventually. He locked me out of a stall at Babies 'R Us two weeks ago. . . one with a bolt. I thought I was going to have to squeeze under a stall."

Realizing that the other parents and kids were looking at me, as if to say "this isn't the way a normal parent should react", I walked off to find Mikie. I found him playing Legos on the floor in one of the classrooms. I looked and noticed that the front of his shorts were wet.

Mom: "Mikie, why are your shorts wet."

Mikie: "Kaden made me laugh and I had an accident."

Mom: "Did you tell anyone?"

Mikie: "I thought you would be mad."

Mom: exasperated "Mikie, you have to tell someone when you have an accident so that you can change your clothes."

Mikie: "Want to hear Kaden's joke? He made his frog say 'Time to tuck-in for bed.' Isn't that funny?"

Okay, I get laughing so hard you pee your pants. But, I was expecting a REALLY funny joke. In my mind, this doesn't qualify.

I changed his clothes, hustled him off to the car, and we went to pick up Hannah. But, I wonder, why does this happen to me? I see other parents walk in each morning, their kids carrying their own lunchbox. I look like a tornado hit me each morning, Mikie running into school with me walking behind, hauling lunch, changes of clothes, baseball gloves, etc. And, every evening, as if I haven't learned my lesson, I walk right back into the eye of the storm.

At least I have amusing stories to tell. . .

Love, The Trahans