It used to the the case that I would drive Clara to her elementary school first, drop her off, and then continue on with Winton to his preschool. In the afternoon, I'd again go to Clara's school first, and then Winton's. This meant that every morning Winton had 15 minutes of alone time with Mummy, and every afternoon Clara got the same.
Now Clara is going to a summer camp run on the campus at which I work. We drop Winton first, and pick him up last. Clara gets 40 minutes of alone time with Mummy. Winton gets none. He's not happy.
We're on day 9 of summer camp and today Winton decided he just wasn't going to be dropped off first.
He clung to the car: I removed him.
He opened the door and got back in the car, hiding in the footwell: I removed him.
I carried him into the building.
When I put him down to put his lunch in the fridge he lay on the floor shrieking.
When I picked him up, he managed to get one hand under my skirt, hiking it up, and the other hand into the neck of my shirt, pulling it down.
Thus disarrayed and indecent I staggered over to his teacher, who helped me prise him off my person.
(Did I mention he was also TRYING to smear his freshly applied sunscreen onto my clothing, which he knows I dislike?)
And then I walked away, dragging Clara (unhelpfully full of questions) behind me.
Starbucks should have "shot of Xanax" on their menu. I'd totally buy more coffee from them if I could have both espresso and tranquilizer in my beverage.
Tomorrow I plan to do drop off in armor. Or maybe I will drop Clara off first . . . spending my day driving around in circles is actually preferable to this morning's debacle.