Who's on first? Starring Tom and Jimmy Buffet, and Wimpy Kid. And me.

90 degrees at 8 a.m. No surprise, of course, in May. Is desert here, obviously. So the air conditioning in the van goes on, even on the way to school. I totally love my van, even though it isn't cool, and Single Kelly would shun me if she saw her little white Integra stacked with piles of crapola in the garage, while I drive around town in a fetchin' VAN. (In fact, she's in here with me right now, shunning me, in manner of Sybil starring Sally Field. She told me to tell you so.)

I like to say I've evolved way past Single Kelly, and become very humble, not caring at all what people think of me, but really, I've just grown lazy in my maturity. After the van, the next step is those stretchy-waisted jeans, that begin just under my bra. (I know, they sound fantastically comfortable, don't they?) Next, I'll stop wearing my Spanx under dresses, so my backside will look like two puppies wrestling in a sack (Grandpa Taylor used to say that, although, not about me, I hope. Good memories.) And finally, I'll go shopping for one of those 18-hour-Cross-My-Heart bras, without any underwires! But that is the final step, before I finally give up entirely. So if you see me on the street with super pointy boobies, you will know it is a cry for help, and you can go ahead and schedule the intervention.

Anyhow, I like my Honda van. As with many Hondas, the air conditioning isn't super quick or cold, but it is terribly loud. When it is on, Tommy continues to talk as he always does (i.e. constantly, and without breathing), only way louder. In the back seat, the big kids are fighting about who gets to read Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Last Straw, on the bus on the way home, and so I attempt to distract them with some Jimmy Buffet (because there isn't any Alphaville on my Ipod).

So, let's review:

1. AC that sounds like airplane take-off.

2. Bickering and cooties in back seat.

3. Cheeseburger in Paradise.

4. Tom screaming over the top of it.

Above Fins come high-pitched squeals from the back seat, some whacking noises, and a hissed "cheese touch."* Then, "NOOOOOOO!!!!"

Tom: cheese? I want cheese!

Me: Kids, will you pipe down and listen to Senor Buffett?

Tom: MUFFINS? I want muffins! Mom, gimme muffins! I hungreee!

Me: Buffett.

Tom: WHAT?

Me: BUFFETT!

Tom: MUFFINS! I want to eat lotter (water), too. Lotsa lotter! BIG lotter! AND MUFFINS! And cheese! And lunch. Mom, I wanna go to Pei Wei and get orange pop. NOW! NOW!

Sam: What kind of muffins you got up there, Mom?

Me: No muffins. Buffett.

Sam: WHAT?? I can't hear you.

Tom: Mom, muffins too loud!

I silence Jimmy. 

Everybody takes a deep, cleansing breath.

Jane: Mom, today is Breakfast with Mom at school. Why didn't we sign up?

Because who wants to  pay to fight with 2000 other mothers for 100 parking spaces, so we can all go the cafeteria and scarf doughnuts at 7 am. I get belly aches from early-morning doughnuts. Also, would require hair-brushing and stuff. Is mean fundraising trick to play on Mothers for Mother's Day. But I don't say that, to the backseat-dwellers.

Okay, maybe I did say that. Is possible.

Me: How about I take you all to Krispy Kreme after school? Is linner/dunch with Mom. It will be so fun. And we can go to the library and return that book that is 3 weeks overdue! Yeah!

Tom: Doughnuts? I want doughnuts! And muffins! And lotter! And cheese! And pop! I wanna go to the ROBBERY (library).

Oh well. We can turn off the air conditioning again in November. Usually.

* Don't know the cheese touch? You should read the Wimpy kid books. Are hilarious.