Last week was finals for Tayden. Our school district does trimesters, so we have weird times for finals. This year, Tayden has begun to care about his grades, so last week was rough. By Friday, he was beat. That’s the morning I chose to forget our longstanding morning ritual of calling him at 6:30 to make sure he is up. 

I know, I know, it seems ridiculous, but our mornings don’t cross over. He is eating when I am stepping out of the shower, having already been in the kitchen for the dogs and coffee. I don’t feel like freezing and going to the kitchen to see that he is up when I am dripping from the shower. So, I call him. I am always cautious not to FaceTime him. There are plenty of other reasons for him to be in therapy later in life without adding that little tidbit. I have only forgotten to call him twice this school year. Prior to Friday, he had NEVER overslept this school year. 

I went through my whole morning and was calling his name by the front door to step on it because we NEEDED to go! Then I realized….NO, NO, NO! I took the stairs two at a time and burst through his door like Kojak. I yelled, “TAYDEN, GET UP, NOW!!!!!!” Poor Tayden! That is NOT a good way to wake up. Also, not a good way to start the final day of finals. Tayden bolted up, nearly knocking his head on the bottom of his top bunk, loudly gurgled some incoherent sound, and immediately fell back down…still asleep. I didn’t have time to soft pedal this (not that I am good at soft pedaling anything anyway). I had to shake him awake. It took two full minutes (of precious time) for him to become coherent enough to look at the time on his phone. It took another minute to tell me that he didn’t have a first period final that day. WHEW! I texted work that I’d be a little late and started urging my slow morning boy to get up. 

Much to Tayden’s credit, we only left 15 minutes late…despite his ungracious awakening. My bad there! He actually made it to his first period class on time, and I was only 15 minutes late to work. Not bad!

My other, unrelated story is about Bert in Chicago. Nobody likes to drive Bert in the city. He is big…the lanes are narrow…and we aren’t city people, so we don’t drive there often and don’t know where we are going. But Travis brought his electric drums, a number of guitars, an amp, and who knows what else. Bert was loaded up! Bert is a Nissan Armada, so he is a big boy! We were going to the city to meet up at Brock’s place so Brock, Travis, and Matt (our old college teammate) could jam. The weather was amazing, so while the boys jammed, the rest of us were on Brock’s rooftop patio enjoying the sun. 

Before we left, I was informed that we were within a mile of a Trader Joe’s. Not an easy walking mile, but a mile nonetheless. We HAD to stop. I miss my Trader Joe’s! What I didn’t realize is that parking at a city Trader Joe’s is not designed for a Bert-sized car. Luckily, the treacherous parking garage was tall enough, but there were pillars everywhere that were only a car width apart. We had to execute 180 degree turns between these pillars. We had to park between these pillars. And there were people everywhere. I am not sure how Travis got in and out without scraping something or hitting someone. There was even a guy on a stool just inside the extremely steep ramp to enter the garage (the first 180 degree turn), holding a stop and go sign on a five foot stick to let the people on the ramp (who couldn’t see him) know whose turn it was. In this world of great technology, sometimes you just need a dude on a stool with a sign on a stick. I got my Trader Joe’s fix, and Travis got his jam on, so all’s well that ends well. But I am sure we were a sight. We were the only vehicle of that size in the parking garage!

Have a great week everyone! Make it a fantastic Humpday!