Um, Hello? Is Anyone In There?

Hubby was off from work last Tuesday and that's the day he takes the kids to playgroup. I always pack a small diaper bag with just-in-case essentials. It's a fun time for all three of them and Jack's progressing so well there with his sensory processing disorder.  His sensory issues are mild compared to some of the kids there; even his occupational therapist agrees.  Perhaps it's all the therapies he has that are helping him, not just natural maturity.  It's a developmental playgroup for him that's run by his developmental therapist.  Our daughter, Liv, goes, too.  She gets much-needed social time with other kids, so it's a win-win situation for them both, even though she doesn't have SPD.

But I digress. Back to my original thought, Tuesday was Playgroup Day. I had everything ready for them and couldn't wait to hear all about their day when I got home. Unfortunately, I screwed up.

It wasn't until I pulled into the parking lot at school that I remembered one very crucial part of the playgroup date...

getting there. I had taken the wrong car to work. Instead of taking Hubby's car, I unconsciously took mine...yeah, the one with the baby seats in it.

I called Hubby immediately and told him I screwed up and took the wrong car. Neither one of us even caught it when we waved goodbye to each other as I left. Duh.

So, the kids didn't get to go to their favorite place of all time last Tuesday because Mommy had a brain fart. And, to be totally honest, it ruined my day that I ruined theirs. I know, I know. Kids this young don't know anything is amiss; they didn't even know it was Playgroup Day. I, however, did.

And I was off my square the entire day. I think it's safe to say that it will never happen again. I honestly felt worse than if I'd woken up late.

Note to Self: Tuesday = HUBBY'S CAR, you moron.