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Do you remember the sound of Charlie Brown‘s teacher on The Peanuts? She had that muffled “whaa-whaa-whaa” of an expertly muted trumpet combined with some sortĀ of nasally resonance never before heard on earth–much less in a classroom. How Linus ever managed to do anything beyond “pound erasers” is beyond me.

Which brings me to our home this morning. It seems I must sound like the Peanuts teacher to my kids. I see them stare blankly into my eyes, their gaze hollow and questioning. I swear they see my mouth moving and may even note a waving hand or pointing finger. What they don’t seem to capture, however, are any of the things that come tumbling out of my mouth before 8:30 in the morning.

“What?…get dressed? What are you talking about?!”

“Huh? Hurry up? What for?”

“Brush my teeth? I did that before bed last night!”

Well, ok…they really didn’t say those things, but they may as well have. Instead of saying those things they:

1. Did not get dressed [or run an ever-loving comb through their ever-loving hair]

2. Did not hurry up [missed the ever-loving BUS]

3. Did brush their teeth, but also managed to drop the toothpaste on the floor [awesome]

Friends, what’s up with the pre-bus stop disconnect? Why–in February mind you–is it so fantastically difficult to get buttons fastened and socks on feet? How long does it really take to suit up in snow gear–and should I clock this task in minutes or hours?

Tomorrow, instead of fighting and going crazy in my head, maybe I’ll just look at them and express, in all candor, my true feelings:

“WHAA WHAA WHAA.”

I promise: they won’t know the difference.