So My Son Left His

Hatbox on the bus left night. After the game. You know, his band
hat. Which would be moderately ok. I mean, he could just go look
for the thing on Monday morning. Except that to compound his
problems, he left his billfold IN the hatbox WITH the hat. Yes, my
son is getting to be more and more like his mother every day. Hell,
I can't even get mad at him. When's the last time I did something
that stupid. Last week? Yesterday? Did I forget to mention that
this IS a bus that will be used first thing Monday morning to haul
students to our local high school. Yep. It is.

So it would seem wise to at least attempt to retrieve the hatbox
over the weekend if possible. But then that means disturbing
someone else's weekend. You know, to let us into the bus barn.
Have I mentioned here previously what an absolute JOY it is
that my son is in the band. On so many different levels? No?
Seriously. I mean, it is. I bitch about it a lot, but it is. Well at
least, you know, during the five minutes that he's actually march-
ing across the field. Then I get to watch him from the stands at
the home games with all of the other proud parents, queso from
the nachos I serve at the concession stand spattered across my
shirt...