Big Game Day with Charlie

AT THIS MOMENT CHARLIE IS:

Clueless as to what she weighs today.

Soaking her pants.

Waiting for Midol to kick in.

Trying to type on her keyboard without knocking over the mountains of paperwork piled on the desk.

Getting ready to bring her husband’s license plate inside.

Writing “PUT ON DEODORANT" and "TAMPONS IN PURSE!” on her hand with a Sharpie Marker.

Wondering why this day was so crazy, and it’s not even noon.




Dan the Superhero has a saying.

“Poor planning on your part does not necessitate an automatic emergency on my part.”

I have been muttering that all morning, trying to remind myself that my agony is not anyone else’s fault. I got myself into this mess. It’s all on me.

What happened to bring me to the above list? Well, it all started last Friday when Matt was coming home from work…

He got pulled over because our license plate had expired (which happened right during the holidays. How in the heck am I supposed to remember that when all the fun stuff is going on??? "OK, kids, Santa is coming tonight. Hope Mommy gets back from the DMV in time to watch you open your presents…") and got a ticket. He also got a ticket for not having proper documentation for our car insurance. (Charlie says an aside to Margaret the Saint- “No, Mom, we are not driving without insurance. The card expired over Thanksgiving, and I forgot to put the new one in the glove box. Is your daughter’s natural blonde hair so adorable now?”) So that all happened on Friday night. And guess what? We get to go to court to show a judge our insurance card and prove that we DID have insurance! Oh, the joy! It’s just like jury duty, except that we get to GIVE THEM money!

But the license plate was totally my fault. I got the notice before Halloween that it would soon be time to buy a new sticker, and put it in my filing cabinet so I wouldn’t lose the paperwork, and then promptly forgot about it. Till Matt got his ticket, that is. The DMV takes Mondays off, so I had to wait till Tuesday (today) before I could go get the new sticker. Which meant that I had to drop kids off at school, take Matt to work (cause we aren’t risking another ticket till it’s fixed), go to the bank, and go to the DMV.

Add on top of that whole schedule that Aunt Flow is in full force, I need to wash my hair, and I woke up an hour late this morning. Yep. We had to leave the house by 7:38 and I woke up at 7:15. The kids were still sleeping and needed breakfast, uniforms, hair done, and all that good stuff. The whole morning was a flurry of frantic activity, racing to beat the clock and get everyone to their proper destinations on time.

I dropped everyone off, headed to the bank, and then stopped by home. I had to grab the current insurance card and the paperwork for the sticker. I couldn’t find either. After calling to get proof of insurance emailed to me, I looked everywhere. I then searched my ENTIRE filing cabinet to see where the paper was. I then remembered Friday night I had Matt stick the stupid paper in my purse so I would remember.

I stepped on the scale, and the battery was too low to weigh me. So I added that to my mental list. New battery for scale.

Printed off the new insurance cards (for both vehicles. The one in the van was old too!) and headed to the DMV. Turns out they have a drive up window for stickers and the whole process took me 3 minutes. A world record. The lady there reminded me that you can't adhere the sticker in the cold, so we'd have to bring the license plate inside and let it warm up first. Which was a good tip. If only the rest of my day could have gone so smoothly...

I figured since I had 6 hours suddenly open up on my schedule, I would go get the battery for my scale and some other things I needed.

I headed to the Dollar store first, where I picked up 14 toothbrushes, in every color known to man, so the kids wouldn’t fight about having similar colors. I picked up Triple A batteries while I was there. Then I decided I better get Double A batteries too. Tim uses them for his Xbox controllers and steals them from our remotes, and there are never enough to go around. If the scale took either one of those, I’d be prepared.

Then I was off to look for a thermos for Matt, since his travel mug leaks all over the place. Went to Menard’s, because I knew Walmart didn’t have one that would work. I then realized that the tampon I had used that morning was not going to last. Mentally playing the game of "Period Chicken" with myself, I figured I could last long enough to look through the store and find a thermos. That was about the same time I realized I had on a sweatshirt with no bra and my pajama pants. The pajama pants are black and white zebra striped. Obviously, I was thinking clearly about dressing appropriately for the day. And being the good girl that I am, I didn’t take time to pack tampons in my purse (as I stated I would YESTERDAY) so I either had to buy more or brave it out. I decided to brave it out. I walked every square inch of Menards and couldn’t find the thermos I needed. Figures.

Forgetting about my wardrobe and period, and hyperfocusing on my need to get a thermos, I ran into the local farm supply store. They had a great selection of them, and found one that would work. I then decided to pick up a 9V battery, just in case the scale used those. While there, I walked past someone and thought “Boy, that farmer stinks!” and quickly realized it was me. I had not only forgotten tampons and a bra. I’d also forgotten deodorant. Fabulous. At that point, I knew I needed Advil and Midol for oh so many reasons.

Now, last time I was at this store, I had an issue. A big issue. And it wasn’t pleasant. But I was determined this trip would go off without a hitch… until I realized the back of my pants were sticking to me.

OH NO!

Always says “Have a happy period.” I say “Wear black, stay home and wait it out.”

Needless to say, the same lady who was so kind to me before was at the register. And she noticed me squirming and trying to move my coat and hide my backside. Because the pants were not period approved. But she thought I was shoplifting. She eyed me up one side and down the other, and asked if there was anything else I needed to buy. Like I was going to whip something out from under my coat and say “I was going to steal this, but your sense of morality has made me seen the error of my ways. I’ll buy it outright.”

Of course, being in total panic mode about my zebra pants looking like they had been hunted and shot, I started looking even more suspicious. Stammering, wiggling and worming around like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, I’m sure I looked like a zebra in the headlights. What I needed at that moment was to get back into the safety of my van. Throwing cash on the counter and heading to the door, I didn't even bother to wait for my change. (17 cents. Who would wait at a time like this for 17 cents?)

She started to follow me out, but when she did that she figured out the reason I was looking so weird at the counter. Her eyes got real big, she send me this apologetic look, and went back to her post. THANK HEAVENS! A strip search would have been humiliating, but this was humiliating enough for today.

I finally got home, changed all necessary things, took Advil and Midol, got my pj pants soaking, and opened the back of my scale to change the battery and weigh myself at last.

And wouldn’t you know it- the darn thing takes C batteries and I don’t have a ONE in the house!

I think I will weigh myself tomorrow, because I don’t care about it anymore today.