I suppose there is a small piece of my brain missing that causes me to forget that every week, there are the same seven days that get used over and over, and that those days sometimes have things that happen on them every week, like Saturday Night Live (the day is right there in the title, and for some reason I am almost always surprised that it’s about to come on). I almost always forget that violin lessons are every Monday at 9 am as well. How? Why? Orange? Who knows?!
So anyway, I manage a shower and make-up before zooming up to the school (parents have to be present) to get Shelby from class and walk her to the opposite end of the building for her lesson. There’s only one other boy, and today he wasn’t there, so she had the teacher all to herself (which is nice, because, adorable though that boy is, I want to strangle him with his own strings). Not seeing this as a golden opportunity to get some one-on-one attention, Shelby spends most of the class fidgeting, trying to walk in circles and purposely playing the wrong cords. I was about ready to beat her with her extra bow when class was finally over. But, when the instructor walked away to return his instrument to it’s case, she manned up and played the piece beautifully. Then basically threw her violin at me and ran to meet a passing friend in the hall. He said that she may have a confidence issue or be shy about her playing (which sounds about right for her), but that all her shenanigans remind him of his older Gifted & Talented kids, and that she seems to really have some natural talent. Perhaps he is taking an added interest in her because he sees her potential. Or maybe he’s hoping that we will continue to come to class since halfway through she walked right up to me, threw the front of my shirt in the air and gave my tummy a hug. There’s no way to be sure. But, if it lands her a scholarship down the road, I’ll wear pasties to the next session, just in case.
Now that I’ve been exposed on an elementary school campus, it’s probably all up hill from here! (Which, really, when you’re doing housework, up hill sounds just awful.) Once I get through typing, I’ll:
- Do some laundry (already done, boo yah!)
- Make the bed (this too, what what!)
- Unload the dishwasher (still gotta do it. Boo.)
- Reload the dishwasher
- Clean the sink
- Take out the trash
- Fold clothes
- Pick up the living room a little
- Pick up the bedroom a lot
- Find and wash all the stray water glasses
- Dust the bedroom (I swear the TV just spits it out like fluffy exhaust fumes)
- Return all jewelry and hair things to their rightful places
- Look disgustedly at Shelby’s messy room then close the door