Free At Last

Last week was a barbecue at Emma's school. We had gotten a notice home, and Emma was so very excited. We told her we would go, both Marty and I, and have lunch with her and it would be so fun.

She was thrilled.

So what does an extremely sleep-deprived set of parents do in a situation like this? They would never forget about it, right? Of course not!

Ummm, yeah.

She came home on the bus Friday, and asked in her meek, little disappointed voice, "Mommy, I thought you were coming to the barbecue today. I waited for you, but you never came."

I have never felt like such a heel in all my life.

I apologized profusely, and held her while she cried I cried. "Baby, I am so very sorry. I messed that one up big time. I completely forgot, and I am so sorry. I wanted to come have lunch with you, and I missed it, I am so very sorry. Will you forgive me?"

"That's OK, Mommy, I forgive you. I thought maybe you were talking about another barbecue." And with that, she skipped happily away.

So today, in an effort to shed the title of the World's Worst Mom Ever, I went to her school, bought an adult lunch ticket and met her class and ate cafeteria lunch with her. She beamed from ear to ear and could not sit down she was so excited. Seriously. She literally stood the entire time.

I chatted with her classmates and hugged my darling, pizza-eating girl. As she was leaving, she said, "Mommy, thank you so much for coming to lunch today." At last, I am freed of my horrible Mommy-guilt. "I was happy to come. Thank you for letting me share lunch with you, Emms!" She hugged my neck and sighed in my ear, the sigh of a happy, contented girl. "I think I'll let you do it again sometime."

It's a date, darling. It's a date.