Bad at it

Sometimes I'm just not that great at life.

Like last week when I got super glue and dryer lint on my fingernail at the same time while I was trying to glue magnets to paper. That's the whole story. I'm really just that incapable.

Or like last night, when I took my perfect innocent child for a bike ride just before the sun went down. I made sure he had snacks and water. I even gave him a couple of toys to play with while we rode because I wanted to go a decent distance.

But he started crying 3 miles in. So I went "just one more mile" and then came back. But the problem with riding a bike is that when you turn around you're only halfway done. And by the time I turned around, Bubbah was a mile past done.

So he cried the whole way home.

And all the other bikers judged me. I know it.

He screamed and wailed, only stopping to whimper occasionally.

I stopped and checked on him more than once, handed him the toy that was down by his feet, made sure he hadn't run out of water or snacks. And he was fine. Always fine.

When we got home his tiny little fingers and bare toes were cold. Bad mom! Why didn't a take a blanket with us? Because the sun was up when we left, and I was sweating like a pig. Not cold.

This morning's "bad at it" incident tops them all though.

I took Tommy grocery shopping, we got there in perfect time for the very best produce. I had my coupons and my price matching list. I was getting a steal-of-a-deal on EVERYTHING. I even found the perfect teenage boy checker (the kind who just does the price matching without challenging my research) and there was no line to wait in. This shopping trip was going to set a speed record AND a "happiness" record at the same time. Bubbah and I were thrilled.

I loaded all of my groceries onto the belt, in the appropriate order - eggs at the end and waited for the doode to start scanning.

Which is when I reached in my purse for my wallet.

Which is when I realized that my wallet wasn't in my purse.

Which is when I remembered that I got it for some computer work and it was still sitting on the computer desk.

Which is when my face turned red and I hung my head in shame. Leaving the grocery story with zero groceries and nothing but a wasted half hour.

Now all I'm doing is trying to decide whether I'm more embarrassed or just plain mad that I hafta re-do all of that shopping.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.