Dear Elli,
Tonight, we did homework. Your assignment was to complete a worksheet on the letter "M". You had to trace two capital M's, two lower case m's, write a couple of each by yourself, and draw a picture of something that begins with M.
Easy enough, right?
Wrong.
The tracing went well. But then came the writing. Dear God help me.
Your first capital "M" was fine. It looked like a five-year-old wrote it. So it met my expectations. It did not, however, meet your expectations. So you erased it. And dropped your pencil on the floor in the process. I picked up your pencil, and we finished your capital M's.
The lower case m's required a piece of scrap paper for practice, three more erasing sessions, and two more pencil drops under the God forsaken table.
Finally, it was time to draw a picture! You wanted to draw a moon. And in addition to the moon, you wanted me in the picture, because my name is Mom. And in addition to the moon and the Mom, you needed to also be in the picture, even though your name doesn't start with M. Apparently I cannot go anywhere without you. Not even in a picture.
And the car also needs to be in the picture, because Elli and Mom cannot go look at the moon without driving the car. And while we're at it, you needed to be depicted wearing your ballet leotard. And I had to be wearing my sleeveless dress shirt and black pants, because I look so pretty in that outfit. But we do not have the correct shade of mint green to properly represent my pretty shirt. And "ping, ping, ping" went the 17 crayons under the table as you dropped them on the damn floor.
At this point, I quietly got up and retrieved a beer from the fridge. I took a deep breath and successfully diverted my oncoming nervous breakdown.
An hour. I'm not shitting you. One freaking hour to complete a worksheet. And you dropped your pencil and/or crayon 20 times. How in the hell do you drop a writing utensil 20 times. Are you f-ing with me? Do I need to take you to the doctor?
I'm doing the best I can, kiddo. But I'm kind of high strung. And if you continue to spend an hour dropping pencils on the floor, I'm going to lose my shit. Just draw a damn moon, ok? We don't need the whole extended family dressed in wedding attire in the picture. Just the freaking moon. That's all.
I love you.
Mom
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