Freaky Friday

Friday was not a good day in "Carolyn World". I started out the day by taking care of my dad while my mother went and did something else. That, in and of itself, was not so bad, although I admit it is frustrating having to explain over and over that no one is going to come and pick us up and take us to work, or answer the question, "Who are you?" for the 100th time. I think that the only reason I can take care of Dad and not be really, really sad the entire time is because he and I were never especially close. I never doubted that my father loved me and I love him too, but we didn't ever really talk. I remember when I was a freshman in high school and I tried out for the softball team. I was, undoubtedly, the best short-stop in the entire freshman class but I knew I was screwed when I saw who the softball coach was. It was the band director, Mr. L. I was in the band too and Mr. L and I had a mutual dislike of each other. I thought he was a complete and utter asshole and he thought I was a disrespectful bitch. Turns out we were both right. Time has shown that I do not show respect to those who don't earn it and I don't think that even those who love me the most would hesitate to back up the "bitch" claim. Whatever. I would rather be called a "bitch" than have people say, "Oh, that Carolyn! She's so nice." Who, in their right mind, wants to be labeled nice? Boring. It just shows no imagination or passion. I would WAAAYYY rather have people call me a "bitch" than declare that I'm some simpering nice person. I think that mission has been accomplished.

Anyway, I was right about Mr. L too because he got fired when I was a sophomore. Turns out he was having a sexual affair with a senior. I remember thinking it wasn't that big of a deal to me because she was a total slut who slept with everyone. I bet the straight male faculty members were nervous the day Mr. L got busted because it easily could have been one of them getting "blown" in the band-room. In any case, I wanted to think that it was divine retribution on Mr. L for being unfair to me during the freshman softball try-outs, but it probably wasn't. So, when I tried out for the freshman softball team I was really the best short-stop in the freshman class. Everyone agreed that I was going to be the starting short-stop for the freshman team and waiting for the team list to be posted was just a formality. Well, Mr. L was probably pissed off at me because I rolled my eyes when he announced that we were going to play "Rhapsody in Blue" at the spring concert (I don't like "Rhapsody in Blue" and I loudly whispered to the second chair clarinet that I thought it was an unimaginative choice) so he put me on the "B" team.

Well, the team roster was posted first thing in the morning on a Friday and so I had to go all day in school harboring that disappointment and tolerating all the kind remarks from those who felt I should have been the starter, blah, blah, blah. I didn't want to give Mr. L the satisfaction of reacting. Needless to say, by the time I got home I was ready to burst. Unfortunately, my mother was at work and my dad was stuck with me. I walked in the house, burst into tears and told my dad that Mr. L was a jerk and I should be on the "A" team and that it wasn't fair. Keep in mind that I am hysterically crying the whole time. Of course my dad totally freaks out and has no idea what to say. He tells me to just go out there and try my hardest and show Mr. L that he made a mistake. He tells me that being on the "B" team is still very, very good. He tells me that I can always work my way up to the "A" team. I respond to all of these comments by screeching and crying harder and saying that he "just doesn't get it".

So, my dad does the one thing he knows always makes my mother feel better when she is upset. He takes me shoe shopping. By the time my mother comes home from work I am sitting in the living room surrounded by boxes of new shoes. No kidding, I think he got me 6 pairs of shoes. I specifically remember getting the same pair of Nike shoes in two different colors. She turned to my dad, who was sitting on the couch with a blank stare, shaking his head and asked, "What happened here?" My dad said something like, "Mr. L. Big jerk. Didn't make first string. Crying. Shoes," which my mom completely understood and she got down on the floor and hugged me. She then admired my new shoes, agreed that Mr. L was a complete asshole and we ate potato chips for dinner.

So, as you can see, my father was a good dad. We just didn't have those touching heart-to-heart talks that some of my friends claim to have had with their fathers.

Enough about that...back to my crappy day on Friday. I took care of my dad all morning, which didn't suck, but I couldn't leave his side because if I did he would start wandering around the house trying to get out to "find someone". So I had to sit in the family room watching the Golf Channel for 4 hours. After my mother came and got him, I decided to take the kids to the pool. That was actually fun because I have decided that even though none of the other moms go on the big water slides it doesn't mean that I can't if I want to. Despite the fact that the first person I saw at the pool was "The Disco Queen" from my Groove class (she looked satisfyingly shitty in her bathing suit, by the way) and the second person I saw was the mom that I can't stand (the one who always points out how the two of us are the oldest moms of kids in the Kindergarten class) I had fun. So much, in fact, that I decided to take the kids to Ben and Jerry's for ice cream on the way home! Yippeee!! I was even going to have real-live ice cream instead of the sorbet I usually have in a misguided attempt to save calories.

Here's where my day went wrong. We ate our ice cream, got in the car, and I promptly backed into another car parked in the lot. There was damage...but not to my stupid Durango...to the car I backed into...a fucking Porsche. Needless to say, the mid-life crisis bald man to whom the car belonged came running out of Ben and Jerry's with his boob-job girlfriend, looked at his dented bumper and said, "Oh shit." I immediately burst into tears and kept saying how sorry I was. His girlfriend kept saying, "It's okay. It could be worse. No one was hurt. It's not that bad!" and I was so pathetic, I actually took comfort from that!

Okay, so I give the guy all my information and we leave. When we get home, Brenna gets her Jr. High class schedule out of the mailbox, opens it and immediately calls her friends to find out if they have the same homeroom so she can find a suitable locker partner. Of course, none of her friends have the same homeroom, so she is sad and scared and disappointed and pissed. I should have taken her shoe shopping, but instead we go out for Chinese food. Brenna is not the kind of kid who cries out her disappointment...she gets pissy and takes it out on me. That doesn't go over really well. So, at one point during dinner at The Fortune Kookie I get up from the table and go to the bathroom after announcing that "I just can't take it anymore!" By the time I calm down and head back to the table, I return to find Brenna crying and admitting she is scared. That makes me feel like a big ol' shitball. If I hadn't been so hungry at that point, I would have grabbed her and gone to Nordstrom's and bought us both 6 pairs of shoes.