tell me about it

I pad quietly into my parents’ room. My sister doesn’t have to go to school this week on account of her drama performances this weekend (hearts and luck, baby girl, I’m sorry I can’t make it) so Dad didn’t have to wake up to drive her to school.

This morning, however, it was bucketing down with heavy, heavy rain (why can’t it rain like this on Saturday mornings so that the construction can’t go on and I can get a good sleep in??), and I couldn’t bear to drag myself out of bed, let alone into the rain and to school. So there I was standing next to my parents’ bed, putting on my most woebegone look (useless, though, in the pitch dark).

I tap Daddy’s knee gently. He sits up blearily. “Wuh? Huh? Hanna?”

My pitiful look becomes a bit affronted. “No. It’s ME. Can you send me to school? It’s raining.

He lies back down with a groan. “It’s my only day to sleep innnnnn,” he groans. “But it’s waining,” I moan sadly.

My mother rolls over. “I’ll send you. Let Daddy sleep.”

“Heehee yay!” I bounce and gambol out of the room in delight. Thankfully school is near home and it’ll be a scant 10 minute drive in the rain for Mommy, avoiding a 30 minute struggle on public transport for me. Thank God for loving mothers.

Later, in the car, as we near school, I tell Mommy: “Just drop me at the bus stop, don’t drive me into school. When it’s raining there’s always a long line because a lot of parents drop their kids off.”

She turns to look at me. “Yes, and I’m still a parent dropping my kid off at school, aren’t I?”

I laugh in chagrined amusement as I kiss her cheek, thank her, and get out of the car.