I was early enough at afternoon pick up to get a good parking spot and to stand by the gates and catch Tyler on his way out. We walked back to the car and he was his usual chatty self. We always talk the whole ride home about how his day was, what he did at recess, whether his larva died. The usual kid stuff.
We hopped in the car and he got really quiet. Actually, he didn't say a word. I pulled up to a red light and looked over my shoulder to ask if everything was okay. Tyler was leaning forward in his booster seat, staring at the floor behind the driver's seat.
What on earth is he staring a...
*mental head slap*
Crappity, crap, crap.
They don't take those magazines at Goodwill. I forgot I'd tossed them on the floor. At least it was this issue was on top of the pile and not one of the other two.
I told Phil the story as we were getting ready for bed. His reaction?
"Heh heh. That's my boy. Heh heh. Bewbs." [in a Beevis and Butthead voice, naturally]
Mom. Fail.
