Read an Excerpt
Notes Left by Two Working Parents
It's Claire's turn to bring snack to school today. There's celery in the fridge. Cut it up into two-inch chunks, spread peanut butter on them and place five raisins on each. Wrap in cellophane (not a dry-cleaner bag!)
and be sure there are twenty-four plus one for her teacher Ms. Goodesteem. Tidy the family room if you get a chance. Did you call the plumber yet?
I love you,
That was okra not celery. Claire saw me spreading Cheez Whiz on them and cried twenty minutes until I forked over twenty-four pieces of Halloween candy (who told the kids the candy was hidden in the vacuum bag?). By the time I untied your son's doubleknots with your graduation pen, the family room was a lost cause. Dinner is on time-bake. I have Rotary tonight. Was the pen important?
Hugs and kisses,
The toilet has been asking for the plumber. You forgot Alasdair's milk money again. He says he owes some fifth grader $3.25 plus interest for milk loans. I have a meeting tonight. The mess has spread to the dining room.
I couldn't find Alasdair's lunchbox so I used your hat. Call the principal about the loan shark. Replaced your graduation pen—disregard the year. I think you took my car keys this morning—the taxi's here,
got to go.
Your keys were in the juice pitcher. The kids won't go to the bathroom—when's the plumber coming? I enjoyed our talk last night. We have to abandon the downstairs to the clutter and take refuge upstairs tonight. Dinner is on your son's top bunk.
We didn't have a conversation last night—our bed was full of kids; I slept with the dog. What's the plumber's phone number? Did you know Tuesday was class picture day, and your son wore his ‘I'm with stupid' T-shirt . . . apparently he stood next to his teacher.
The neighbor called—something about your son and some jumper cables. I said you'd stop by tonight and talk to them. I spoke with the principal,
picture retakes are next Monday . . . I burned the shirt. We owe the principal
$4.50 for loaning our son milk money, too.
Yesterday was Alasdair's snack day; luckily, I had gum. I promise I'll call the plumber today.
I had a breakfast meeting this morning. I sand-bagged the bathroom last night,
call the National Guard if it crests. Any idea where the cat is?
Provisions are low and something is moving in the living room . . . could be the cat. Order pizza and watch out for the waterfall on the stairs.
P.S. Bring your sleeping bag, we're in the attic divvying up the rest of the Halloween candy.
¬2003. All rights reserved. Reprinted from Chicken Soup for the Working Woman's Soul by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Patty Aubery,
Chrissy & Mark Donnelly. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Publisher: Health Communications, Inc.,
3201 SW 15th Street, Deerfield Beach, FL 33442.