For the second day in a row, I have pickled myself in strong strong coffee and it’s not pretty. I’m feeling a little like someone replaced my brain with tiramisu, which strangely enough I don’t really like. To gooey for me.

No, I don’t really have a point. What makes you ask?

Today was a good day, despite feeling like I had a head full of espresso-soaked madeleines. I had coffee with Christa and we saw John Paul Merrit going in to get HIS coffee, which made us giggle. I finished my Mystery Project, which is good because my ass was starting to look like the seat of our desk chair. I started laundry, which until RIGHT THIS SECOND I had completely forgotten about.

Remind me to go finish that laundry, would you? You’re a pal.

Eventually I pried my pickled ass off the desk chair and went to get the boys at school. Either I was really early or every single class at Charlie’s school was running late today; either way, I was kind of freaked out because I got to the gym and NO ONE WAS THERE, no kids, no parents, NO ONE except the Cranky Cafeteria Lady, who kept glaring at me, and I wasn’t sure what time it was because I had taken my watch off and left it at home but I just KNEW we would be late to get Henry and I hate to be late. So I was hyperventillating a little.

Just a little. Maybe it was the coffee. Or the laundry. REMIND ME TO FINISH THE LAUNDRY.

Eventually Charlie’s class came filing down the hall with their little bags, in a nice line. Every day when Charlie comes in the gym and sees me, he starts waving and waving. He has this HUGE smile on his face, and he waves and waves at me while he goes to sit down and wait to be dismissed. And then, when Mrs. H says, “Charlie, you may go,” he runs over and jumps into my arms and says, “HI, MAMA!” and starts making Cute Charlie Noises (which sound very much like a happy kitten).

It’s my favorite part of Charlie’s day.

Today, instead of just dismissing him from his seat on the floor, Mrs. H held out her hand and lead him over to where I was standing. She was walking toward me holding his little hand and he was smiling and waving and I thought oh shit he’s in trouble what did he do oh god I hope he wasn’t swearing at school dammit I bet he was swearing oh my god I think I’m going to throw up on her shoes oh my god oh my god oh my god . . .

Mrs. H walks up to me, puts her hand on my arm, looks me straight in the eye and says, “Charlie is a delight. He’s just wonderful to have in class.” She said some other nice things, but by then I was so relieved that Charlie wasn’t being expelled that I can’t really remember them. I could have kissed her.

I looked down and Charlie was hugging my legs and smiling up at me and saying, “Hi, Mama!” in his little baby voice. If he had asked for a Porsche or a pony or a life-sized R2D2 toy, right at that moment, I totally would have bought it for him. Or I would have tried, although we’re still not sure what the hell is going on with our checking account.

And now I have to go put some laundry in the dryer, before I forget. Again.