NEW POST: "I Forgot"

If there were two words I would eliminate from the human language, they would undoubtedly be, "I forgot."

I suppose eliminating the words themselves wouldn't be good enough. I'd have to see that the entire concept of "I forgot," be eliminated.

"I forgot," is the bane of every mother's existence, the dreaded words a blow to every married woman's ego. It's the very thing that causes educators, librarians, baseball coaches, employers and friends to go completely and totally mad.

Yesterday was the epitome of forgetfulness in my household. A theme ran through my home like a river of molten lava, like a swarm of grasshoppers descending upon a field of ripening wheat.

"Did you do your chores?"

"I forgot...."

"Did you take out the trash?"

"I forgot...."

"Are you coming to the class tomorrow?"

"Oh! I forgot!"

"Where are the library books?"

"Uh...I can't remember."

"Did anyone call while I was gone?"

"I'm...not sure..."

This day of forgetfulness precedes, of course, tomorrow, a day for which I am attempting to prepare for the first of hopefully many community education classes geared towards home learners. We're working towards that very first class, a beginners' art class to be taught by amazing artist Fred Del Guidice. This class will be the culmination of years of prayer and I'm fairly certain that Satan intends to defeat it by tossing seeds of forgetfulness into some of my family members' brains. Unfortunately, those who have weeded out those ugly seedlings have to bear the weight of the work for those who haven't. And, believe me, it doesn't make us very happy.

I had just about gone out of my mind today handing out reminders to make beds, get dressed, do chores, etc. when the time rolled around to prepare to leave for Creative Writing Class, a course that Bard and I have been taking from a local writing for about four weeks now and which both of us thoroughly enjoy.

"Get ready, kids," I announced. I'd worked out a schedule with Bo two weeks before. He would take the younger kids to their science class at the library, drop Bard and I at our Creative Writing class, wait for Monet and Sweetheart at the library, then waste time at McD's until Bard and I were finished. I'd gone over the plan repeatedly. Last Tuesday, I'd reminded him several times.

"Home by six, right?"

"Right."

At 6:15 last Tuesday evening, I knew it wasn't going to happen.

This week, I reminded him again, though I thought the previous week's nasty taste was still lingering in his mouth enough that he'd not DARE forget. After a day full of "I forgot," I felt it was best to just call one more time. Just a reminder. The phone rang. No answer. Voicemail. Half an hour later, I tried again. Voicemail. Finally, at 5;15, I heard Bo's voice on the other end. I knew he'd had to have left by now to arrive home in time, since it's a one hour and fifteen minute commute. Yet I heard no road noise in the background.

"Ummm...whatcha doin'?" I asked hopefully.

"Working up an estimate," he replied.

"Where are you?" Hope was still clinging on by a fragile thread.

"Uh....where else would I be if I were working up an estimate?"

That was just the answer I did NOT want to hear. He was in the office. An hour and a half away.

"I was supposed to be home by six? Uh...I guess I forgot."

I'm surprised the telephone survived such an impact.

After the initial wailing and gnashing of teeth, I forced myself into problem-solving mode, quickly herded the kids into The Beast that is our Dodge van and headed down the road. Deposited kids and Grandpa at the library, dispatched husband to library to pick up kids, headed to creative writing class with Bard.

As drove down the main street towards our meeting spot, an artists' co-op and gallery I turned to my daughter and voiced my frustration.

"I swear," I told Bard, "if one more person says 'I forgot' today, I'm going to start chopping off fingers."

We parked The Beast and headed towards the gallery. As we approached, I noticed our Creative Writing instructor sitting on the steps in front of the shop.

She'd forgotten her keys to the shop.