Bagel Boy

We just finished a four day weekend, so it's back in the minivan for me. Remember this? Well, even though I really love my crossing guard friends, I still wish we had bus service. Especially now that my two older kids have band every day before school. Please tell me music is worth it.

This is the last minute everybody has to be in the car in order for no tardiness to occur.

Henry rolls out of bed with his blanket. It is good practice for early morning seminary.

Max gets his saxophone, which is stashed at Denae's house across the street from the middle school. He can't possibly carry it home every day. Sometimes we see her husband. He thinks I look great with my bedhead and robe.

Next, Claire goes to the elementary school with her clarinet. She's never late. She hates being late. And she wears that blue jacket every day, so I hope you like it.

We park at the school and Henry jumps into the trunk and changes his clothes. We usually leave the door shut. So far we haven't forgotten any shoes or underwear.

The bagel shop is Henry's reason for living in the morning. He can be bribed with a chocolate chip bagel.

He likes to go in by himself with cash. They know him there. Same order, every day. Two chocolate chips, one ice water for mom. They make awesome cinnamon twists, but they crumble everywhere. I'm over them.

Breakfast time!

Nine minutes until I can legally drop Henry off at school. Enough time for gas.

They like it when I get gas in my pajamas. This particular day I happened to run into my neighbor. I like living on the edge.

I feel dirty, so my car should be clean.

Finally, sweet victory. Alice and I alone for the next six hours. We're both going back to bed.