Okay... so remember the list of cookware/bakeware items my 13-year-old was supposed to bring to school to make quickbreads with the other 8th graders?
Here it is again:
two 10”-12” mixing bowls
one set of measuring spoons
one set of dry measuring cups
one liquid measuring cup
one rubber spatula
one mixing spoon
I learned in a subsequent email from the teacher that the kids, who are baking in teams of two, could divide up the necessities between them. I was glad I wasn't going to have to label all that stuff... I mean think about it - labeling every measuring spoon and every dry measuring cup ... and not being able to get the darn masking tape off of the bottom of anything. I relaxed a bit, foolishly basking in the knowledge that our duty would be cut in half.
You see the foreshadowing here once again, don't you?
Last night as we were preparing the items to accompany him to school, I brightly mentioned: "oh - hey, buddy. Your teacher said that you could divide the items between the two of you; did you do that?"
"Oh yeah," he answers, my little McFly, "yeah we did."
"Whew," I sighed with relief. "How did you split it up?"
"I agreed to bring the first 4 items and she agreed to bring the last 3."
My first thought was: "Great; that's really fair..." and then my slight irritation increased as I gazed upon the list while juxtaposing the first 4 items on the list with the last 3. Go ahead and peruse the list again yourself.
No, really. Go ahead. I'll wait.
k. See what I mean?
Essentially my son is bringing everything while the chick brings 2 spoons and a cup.
I'm frustrated now because he didn't think this through, and this means my having to send him in with not one, but TWO large, heavy good mixing bowls... not one, but FIVE separate dry measuring cups, each with its own permanently affixed label to mitigate the urchins' "little to no recall [of whose items are whose] when it comes to which cooking utensils they took out of their bags less than an hour before," individually labeled measuring spoons (again - FIVE of them), and .. oh... a fork.
She's bringing 2 spoons and a cup.
I kept shaking my head, not really believing he hadn't noticed this disparity.
"Bud," I asked, "did you not LOOK at the list? Do you think it makes sense how you divided it?"
"um, nope," he answered. "I just knew there were 7 things on a list."
I smacked myself in the forehead and managed to calm myself down while tediously labeling 13 items.
Then... as we pulled up to school this morning for him and his brother to hop out, he whined: "how am I going to carry all of this stuff in?" - the stuff being his heavy backpack, an extra large binder and folder, his lunchbox, AND 2 large mixing bowls, 5 dry measuring cups, 5 measuring spoons and a fork.
I couldn't restrain the feelings which were lying dormant.
"Well gee, I dunno, buddy! Maybe you should have looked at the list before you decided to bring most of it!"
There was no way I was parking the car (I would be lynched for stopping where I was in the drop-off line and walking all the way to the middle school with him and back) and walking him in on a morning when I had no make-up (not a big deal, really, that one), my hair in a ponytail (again - part of my regular look), my pink, green and blue pajama bottoms, my non-matching hot pink slipper socks puffed into my heelless sneakers, my long-sleeved non-matching maroon Bay State marathon Tshirt (my favorite item of clothing now since I qualifed for the Boston marathon there... I never take it off), and here's the best: a hot pink (but different shade of hot pink than my slipper socks) scarf hanging around my neck. Wait. For you to really get it (split infinitive, I know) I'd better take a picture....
See? He was on his own schlepping all of that stuff in to school.