On the last day of school, WCK brought home the journal she’d been writing/drawing in every day. Here is the best entry, or to look at it another way, the worst entry:
It says, “I am sorry for yelling at my mom.” I recognize this scene. The floor is covered with toys, I have told her to pick up the toys, and her mouth is a big “O” because she’s yelling that she does not want to pick up the toys.
I cannot tell you how grateful I am that I am not the one with the yelling “O” mouth in this drawing. Not that WCK would know what a yelling mouth looks like on me, because I am a perfect mother who never yells during the always cheerful, Mary-Poppins-like toy-pickup process.*
Still, look at my angry eyebrows! Obviously, I am extra, extra mad that there are toys on the ground because we’re both wearing formal strapless ball gowns and we must have someplace to go. I must be saying, “Pick up your toys! We’re going to be late for the barbecue at Twelve Oaks Plantation!” I usually never get this mad on a regular day. **
** Yet another lie.