Middle is in kindergarten. She has afternoon kindy, so I have to take Oldielocks in the am, and then mid morning I take Middle. Today was the same as any other day, getting ready to go, and she was supposed to be putting on her shoes and socks, and getting all her shidunkadunk together. I call her name once or twenty times. I go upstairs because we really need to leave, and this big, sad, gulping mess greets me with a wail.
"I can't *gulp* find *sniffle, gulp* my backpacccccccccccccck."
I go through my detective motions, do a quick scan and don't see it. I mean it's a bright aqua blue and green thing, it's not like it's a chameleon that blends in the the blue carpet or anything. Natural consequences are that we go to school without it, and find it later. I feel a mean mommy award coming on. I'll go get my speech ready. She VERY reluctantly gets her shoes on, grabs her lunchbox and folder, all the while wailing like McDonald's is going out of business or something. The entire bike ride to school, she is sobbing, rubbing her eyes. Abalone is looking at her like she has lost her dang mind, half trying to cry herself. I guess I will have a talk with the littlest about being a follower.
"I *wail* can't take this *gulp, wail, eye rub* anymoreeeeeeeeee!"
"What? Losing the backpack?" (I tried really hard not to laugh, because at this point, it is borderline laughable. The first 10 minutes, I felt sorry for the kid. Now I'm debating on putting her in a support group for backpack tragedies.)
"Yes, it's gone.... it's never gonna be there againnnnnnn, and I need a new oneeeeee." *sniffle, wail, gulp cry*
Seriously, I think this child needs a name change.. to perhaps... Drama QUEEN. She can take that name to a whole new level. I mentioned how it wasn't a big deal. Big Mistake!
"It is a BIG DEAL!! It's my backpackkkkkk! *sob* You don't have one, you don't know about backpacksssss. (Insert older sister's name) doesn't want me to have oneeeee. *Cry, cry, cry*"
I told her that her sister would help find it, since supposedly that's how it's missing, that she wouldn't los it on purpose, etc. We would find it, she could bring it tomorrow.
"It's missing! *gulp* "I want it today. *cry*"
I explained how she needed to stop crying, we were almost at school.
"I can't *sob* stop! My eyes won't let meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."
This boo hooing continued as we walked up to the teacher, who is genuinely concerned about the sadness of my child. She asks if she's okay, and for a fleeting moment I thought it would be funny to respond with "Heck no she's not okay. Any kid who goes into self combustion over a backpack, and is having a meltdown of mammoth proportions is certainly not entitled to the label of "okay." I just smiled and explained about the backpack, and that she's taking it kind of rough. The teacher was very sweet and hugged Middle, and as I'm walking away, I hear Middle say "It's sad because it's *slight gulp* blue and lost." I watch her as she wipes her nose on her princess shirt and walks away.
Don't worry, seeing the Oscar on her mantle when she's ten will all be worth it... I think.