Sometimes I think this job is just too big for me.
The other day I had a few more things on my plate than usual, and my inept multi-tasking abilities once again failed me. Before the day was over, I had sent one son to school without lunch, brought another son to a soccer game at the wrong time, sent my youngest son to school with pants that wouldn’t stay up, and forgot to make dinner.
It was supposed to be a special day. Sean was graduating from pre-school. This was something I had screwed up in the past with the other boys, and I was determined not to forget anything important. This time I remembered to charge the video camera battery. This time I remembered to get a gift for the preschool teacher. This time I remembered to find his dress shoes, iron his nice shirt, clip on his favorite tie, and dress him up appropriately.
I succeeded in all of those things, which honestly, would ordinarily be a pretty good day for me. Unfortunately, there was one thing I didn’t remember. We were in a hurry while I was getting him dressed, and although I tucked in his shirt and helped him close his pants, I somehow didn’t notice that his pants were too big. Waaay to big. I did notice it eventually…but not until he was walking up to the stage to get his diploma.
Want to see a video of a little boy holding his pants up with one hand while the preschool teacher hands him a diploma with the other hand? The battery was charged so the video came out perfectly. He’s not hard to spot. He’s the only one not giving his parents a smiling wave from the stage. He’s the one screaming: “The girls can see my underpants!”
It was also a special day for my middle son Johnny. His school does something called “special visitor’s day.” The kids each get to pick one person to visit them during the day, and that person can bring in a special lunch. He picked me.
Unlike the previous four years, I was proud of myself for remembering not to pack a lunch for Johnny. In the past, while the other kids were eating a special lunch like McDonald’s, Johnny was forced to look at his soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sigh. He begged me to get him Burger King instead this year, and I actually remembered.
Again, ordinarily, that would be a pretty good day for me. But while we were having our nice little picnic Burger King lunch on the school playground, he asked me, “So what did you pack Tommy for lunch today?”
Oh no. I always made their lunches at the same time every morning. I remembered not to make Johnny’s lunch, but for some reason, my meager multi-tasking brain couldn’t comprehend that I still had to make a lunch for his brother.
I looked at my watch. Tommy’s lunch was already over. I looked at my cellphone (which I had remembered to turn off during the preschool graduation ceremony), and saw that there were several voicemail messages waiting for me. I didn’t even need to listen to them to figure who they were from.
Crap.
Feeling like the worst parent ever, I finished up “special visitor day,” went home, and looked at the calendar. What else am I forgetting? Aha! I had written “makeup soccer game” in pencil, but hadn’t bothered to write down the time. Hmmm. Did the coach say 5 or 6?
Now you would think that a person who had already made two critical errors would have been extra careful at this point to make sure he didn’t make another mistake. Not this dad. No sir. I was pretty sure the coach said 6 because I remembered thinking at the time; “When am I going to make dinner?”
Wrong again.
We almost missed the whole game. Oh, and to add a touch of irony, I never solved the dinner dilemma in my mind. I was so thrown off by the entire day that I completely forgot to make dinner at all. This time I was rescued by my wife.
When the four of us returned from Johnny’s soccer game, she said: “Hey, I got home early and saw you hadn’t made dinner yet, so I made it. Hope you don’t mind.”
Mind?
Nope. Don’t have one.
