Whose Kids Are Those?

Did you comb your hair, AJ? Cate, do you have your clothes on? We always pick out clothes the night before, sometimes for the whole week. This way we are prepared and I can make sure they match. We don't have time for anyone coming into the kitchen with red leggings on, an orange and yellow plaid dress, blue socks, a sparkly headband and twinkle toes. Maybe she'll be an artist one day, a very colorful one. I go through this routine every morning as we are getting ready for school. I comb and touch up hair making sure they are all in place and looks neat. Then, I make sure faces are washed... with a rag, with the bathroom light on, while looking in the mirror. Yeah, it shouldn't be that hard, but it is. Soon after breakfast, we are packing up and out the door looking like well-groomed respectable human beings. Well, they do anyway. I just throw on anything and hopes noone wants to be walked to class that morning.

I take the kids to and from school everyday because the bus scares me. I don't think I would be able to refrain from going all kinds of crazy if someone messed with them. Anyway, when it's time to pick the kids up from school, I brave the wait. Caleb and I sing songs to pass the time. His two favorites are "Gangnam Style" and "My God is Awesome." Several kids are being called and Caleb starts looking out the window trying to find Aj and Cate. Children start coming out and are being loaded into various vehicles. I'm looking for mine when I see two slovenly looking miniature people. One has hair sticking up on the head like Alfalfa, is dragging a jacket on ground, and bookbag half on the head. There appears to be some kind of splat of something on the shirt. The other is dragging untied shoelaces across the ground, wearing just the hood of the jacket (sideways) while the rest just falls to the side, and holding a bookbag as though it is a sack of potatoes. I'm squinting because I can't see, trying to get a better look.

Whose kids are those? Wait. Why are they coming to my car?

These new renditions of "Beasts of the Southern Wild" are actually my offspring. My God, what happened? Why do I even bother with all that work in the mornings? They happily hop into the car and are ready to tell me about their day. Obviously, it must have been a great day.