The Mom Fails piled up this week.

It is Thursday night. How is it not the end of the week? The mom fails pile up. Check out the text from my Husband on Wednesday evening.

Exhibit A.
Text and photo from my husband.

You see, I received a call from a friend during the day asking if we could watch her kiddo while she worked and her husband went to the preschool coop meeting. Yes. We could do that.  I knew I had to run our daughter to Girl Scouts and knew that my husband and son would be home.  He would say, "Yes," to an hour with a three-year-old, so, "Yes," was the answer. The trouble was that I had to rush work to get kids from a half-day while my husband was in a meeting. I didn't text him the evening update; I figured I'd see him before the arrival of the little critter.

I did see him at home, but the time was consumed by making dinner, teaching our daughter how to carefully open and close her new pocket knife for Girl Scouts and doing dishes. The girly and I left the house, and while I was gathering some items necessary for the following work-day, I received the text you see above.

Today's fail includes Girl Scout cookie sales. If you show up and pay attention, the two hour cookie sale is not a big deal by itself. A parent supervisor need only arrive at the Cookie Mom's house, pick up all the cookies, GS approved TV tray to display said cookies, and the sign the girls made, the necessary paperwork and fanny pack that serves as a cash box. It is not a big deal, if you aren't fighting Seattle traffic as you head north.  Bless the Cookie Mom who, since I was stuck on Mercer--if you're from Seattle you know the bane Mercer is to all drivers attempting to get anywhere out of the Lower Queen Anne neighborhood. But the Cookie Mom is obviously Varsity!  She accounts for all the cookies, makes sure we have the appropriate paperwork, counts money when we finish a sale and even helps this JV mom count her daughter's cookie money. The Cookie Mom does this as a volunteer. You all understand what an amazing feat that is to me, yes?

Obviously, though I was the assigned sight sale supervisor, I was not going to arrive as planned for a 3:30 cookie/kid pick-up to get sales going by 4:00. This woman was an angel. She understood. She said she would set up and get things started, which she graciously did. My daughter and I arrived a half-an-hour late for sight sales, an hour late for gathering the goods to set-up. Below you see my child arriving at her site sale.

No doubt, you notice she is on the run and not in her uniform. School had a half-day, so my husband worked from home in the morning and then grabbed the kids from school at noon. It didn't occur to me that he would need to supervise uniform packing. I hoped to wrap up work and get us north in time to stop by the house to get her sash. It was not to be. My child did not seem to worry about whether she was wearing her Brownie gear. She is a force of nature--always has been. She knew people would understand she was a Girl Scout because she was selling Girl Scout cookies. Obvious, right?

The happiest moment of the sale was when one of the troop leaders stopped by for a visit. She was picking up some St. Patrick's Day cup cakes for her family. She encouraged the girls, and bought treats for them to enjoy. She made no comment about my daughter's lack of uniform.

Thank goodness it was a sunny day. We're still in rainy season here in the Pacific Northwest, and my child was in a summer romper, a cotton sweater and shearling boots, of course. At least her feet were warm. Only one person shamed her for being out of uniform, and she totally shrugged off the finger wagging. Just one. . . out of all the humans the girls pestered to buy cookies. Humans are impressive. One dear man couldn't buy cookies--he didn't have the money, but he did donate to operation cookie drop for the troops. He was the hero of the day--giving what little he had (88 cents) when the girls asked, and the girls made him feel good about what he gave.

After the sale, I missed my husband's call to pick-up bread at the grocery because my phone was dead. Oh well. We still enjoyed corned-beef, cabbage, potatoes, and carrots with some toasted sour dough that was a little stale, but, completely edible to round out our St. Patrick's Day. I've picked up most of the leprechaun's mess in the house. Yes, a leprechaun visits us each St. Patrick's Day. I blame my kiddos' kindergarten teacher who taught them to make leprechaun traps. He makes a horrible mess with anything green he can find--compost bags, sugar, food coloring, construction paper, sticks of gum. . . you get the idea.

I'm wishing you an easy Friday of purposeful work, clean laundry, a good book, and a relaxing evening.