Pin It I forgot to pick up my daughter from school today.
Wait, let me say that again.
I FORGOT TO PICK UP MY DAUGHTER FROM SCHOOL TODAY. MY KINDERGARTNER.
On Mondays they get out half an hour early, and I completely spaced it.
Luckily my friend Michelle saw Abby lurking around near the kindergarten playground, called me, and stayed with her 'till I got there (feeling like an IDIOT).
I thanked Michelle profusely, then started hugging Abby and apologizing to her. She really could not have cared less. She was off in her own little world, busy thinking about ponies or rainbows or something. (I was really lucky it was Abby - if it had been Sarah, she would've been on the ground sobbing in terror. "YOU FORGOT ME, YOU FORGOT ME." It probably would have been the defining moment of her childhood, something she brought up in therapy ten years later.) (I'm really, really glad it wasn't Sarah.)
I kept apologizing to Abby and she finally looked at me and said, "Mom, relax."
Well alrighty then.
Why is it that the things I'm pretty sure will traumatize them have no effect, and the things I'm pretty sure will be no big deal are completely traumatizing?