Every Wednesday, my child’s preschool hosts a Show-and-Tell session to focus on the “letter of the week.” Last week, they had “H,” and my kiddo, Max, proudly brought a headlamp to share. “This is my HEADlamp!” he exclaimed, beaming with excitement.
Now, I’m not exactly the most organized parent out there. This morning, I woke up with a jolt: “Oh no, it’s Wednesday?! What was the letter again?” frantically searches through papers “Max, quick! Find something that starts with the letter D, like duh-duh-DEE! Hurry!”
Max trotted back shortly, holding his beloved Spider-Man umbrella. “How about this umbrella?” he asked enthusiastically. Uh, no, buddy. “Umbrella starts with a U. Uh-uh-umbrella.” He shook his head with determination. “No, Mommy–THIS umbrella!”
Trying to maintain my composure while packing his lunch, I replied, “That’s close, kiddo! But ‘this’ starts with T-H. TH-TH-THIS.” He looked a bit disappointed but didn’t give up. “Try again! Think of something that starts with D. Like Duh-duh-DINOSAUR!”
Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Ooooh! Let me outside, Mommy! I know JUST the thing!”
At this point, I need to mention that for the past few days, I’ve been complaining about a strange smell on our porch. My husband has been dismissively nodding as if I’m just being dramatic again.
We stepped outside, and Max darted to his secret chair, where he stashes his “collection” of treasures—rocks and bugs, you know how kids are. He pointed down and shouted, “How ‘bout MY DEAD BIRD! DUH DUH DEAD BIRD!”
Panic set in. “OH MY GOODNESS, SON! Don’t touch it! HAVE YOU TOUCHED IT? HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD THIS?” I was ready to disinfect everything and everyone in sight, including the poor bird. We were now late for preschool and still lacked a Show-and-Tell item.
“Go get your stuffed dog! Duh duh DOGGY! Hurry up!” He dashed inside, looking like I just told him I was the worst mom ever for not letting him bring a bird corpse to school.
While he was gone, I tossed the unfortunate bird over the fence, dry heaving and wondering what other treasures were hiding in that collection of his.
When he returned with something fluffy, I took a deep breath. It could be a dog or a cat—either way, it wasn’t decomposing flesh, so I approved his choice. Off we went to preschool, twenty minutes late, but hey, it was the letter D, after all. Duh-duh-DEE. As in, today, Mommy is DEAD.
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In summary, every parent has those chaotic moments that turn into hilarious stories. My son’s adventure with a dead bird is just one of those unforgettable experiences that make parenting a wild ride.