The boys went to bed with gum in their hands and now their fingers are stuck together and when I got up this morning I was greeted by a 6 year old who did not want to go to school and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
I think I’ll runaway.
At breakfast Herbie wanted cookies, Bigweld wanted Dibs, and I just wanted tea but in my tin all I found was decaf.
I think I’ll runaway.
On the walk to school Violet cried, Bigweld tripped and skinned his knee, and Herbie whined. I said my nerves are shot. No one even answered. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
At school Violet told her teacher she wouldn’t be in class today, and she said “what do you want me to do about it?”
At nap-time, everyone played. Who needs rest anyway? I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
I could tell because the weatherman fore-casted 100 degrees. I hope the next time it’s that hot he’s stuck at home with three small, very tired, over-heated children and is unable to run away.
There were three phone calls I needed to make. They all ended with me in tears. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
That’s what is was because after Herbie came home from his “alone visit” with Super Gram I wanted to go for a drive but was missing a car-seat. I’ll bring it over in a few hours said Super Gram. In a few hours, I’ll be a runaway.
And on top of all that, I had to make dinner and The Pilot wasn’t here to kiss the cook. My bath was interrupted by the cat. I slipped on the soap, the water would not go down the drain, and I had to wear my towel outside. I hate it when that happens. When I went to bed I layed in gum.
It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Mom says there are days like that.
Even when you run away.
(Thank you, Judith Viorst, for helping me to use my your words to work through my many tears. “Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day” was just the right read for today.)
