The alarm sounded, I snoozed, it sounded again, and I arose to make my way to Mae’s room. No surprise, she was cuddled deep within her blankets asleep. I sat on her bed; she clutched her covers tight and rolled over. I rubbed her back acknowledging that it’s tough getting back into routine.

“It’ll be good to see your friends!” I said, leaving her room, hoping she was awake.

After getting ready I peeked into her room to, thankfully, see a tossed-haired child pulling up tights and choosing a skirt.

We made it to the breakfast table.

skates

“Where’s your binder?” I asked anxiously after noticing it wasn’t in her backpack.

“I don’t know.” Came through a half-full mouth of cereal and sleepy eyes.

“We need to find it. Can you remember where you left it?” Panic setting in a bit.

It’s only a binder, but not knowing where it was brought haste to an otherwise smooth morning. I thought I had got everything ready.

I looked in cupboards and under couches, while shouting out the minutes we had left before needing to leave. Then, I remembered her binder was at school.

“Mae, guess what? Your binder is at school. We’re good. But, you really need to get going honey, seriously.” I said shooing her to the bathroom.

We made it to the backdoor.

“I want to wear my new shoes. I can’t find the other one.” Mae said on the floor of the laundry room, with one shoe on – the wrong foot.

“We don’t have time, get your jacket on, we’re going to be late.” I said.

We made our way into the cold and quiet morning. En route to the bus stop we talked about our trip home and the friends she was excited to see.

No one was around.

Then, a car stopped next to us, rolled down their window, and said “School starts tomorrow.” I nervously laughed and said thank you.

“Dad! I could still be sleeping.” Mae said.

“Me too.” I shot back.

We all need a test-run right? Tomorrow should be smooth.