Dearest husband,
This morning,
the carpool your wife managed to get the children to tennis camp a mere 5 minutes late. Good thing they aren't a little older, or this would most likely equate to running 5 laps around the track. Which might have killed them, considering it was like 110 degrees out there.
Since the morning was so productive and all (does 5 minutes actually count as late even?), and everyone walked off the court alive (one missing water bottle didn't constitute failure in my book), I decided we should hit up our local Target to finish up shopping for school supplies. How hard could it be -- we only had a few items left on the list. Man. Was. I. Wrong.
Did you know there was a difference between sanitizer, disenfecting wipes, and cleansing wipes?!?? Well, I learn something new every day at this "mom gig". I realize we just paid the school district $150 for book rental, but I think there has been some mistake. You see, we ended up needing to purchase THIRTEEN containers of these sanitizing/disenfecting/cleansing type items. I mean, I surely didn't mess up and register them for cleaning-lady-school or something, right??! I didn't even end up ever finding the craziest thing on the list -- size medium plastic gloves. What the?!!? But after we had done about 3 laps around the store looking for these things, after we had visited the bathroom twice (seriously. wish. i. were. kidding...but Target seems to make our kids need to poo.), I couldn't take anymore...
After checking out $121 of cleaning supplies later, I didn't think I could handle the grocery store without losing all sanity. I did, however, think the car wash was a good idea. Simon said we needed to anyways...and you know how competitive I am. No way I was going to lose that one!

So we pull in the car wash line.
We sit patiently as the guys clean off the bugs and such from the windshield.
And then there is this like jerking and shaking and allover bad noise.
I look up, and the nice guy working is trying to get my attention. "Neutral, no brake."
"Oops, sorry!" I say and absentmindedly move the gear shift.
Into D.
Uhhuh. As. In. Drive.
Want to know what happened next??
The kids started screaming from the back.
I went into panic.
We were
flying through the car wash with all the red phalangies slamming us all over the place so we couldn't see. I hit the brake in the middle because I was sure we were going to ram into the car in front of us..was there one? I couldn't remember..but if there was, we would have smashed through it, I'm certain!
So then we are stuck.
In the middle of the car wash.
With those red flappy thingies slamming into us all over and we can't see a thing.
And then the little tire conveyer belt must have caught up with us, because then it's making that bad shaking raming noise all over again.
This time, I didn't pass the "N" on the gear shift.
Fortunately, you will come home from work to find us all safe after this adventure.
But this, my dear husband, is why we have no milk.
XOXO
Your
slightly insane loving wife.