Atomictumor

One of the irritations of my life is that I can’t really in good conscience yell profusely at MastaG for the irritating things that he does, because I see him and go “well… damn.  Thats exactly what I did…”

Its like the boy isn’t so much my kid, as the clone of my personality.  I mean, luckily, he has GAC’s good looks outweighing my appearance, but habits and personality seem to come, well, from yours truly.

Take in point the situation regarding THE FIELD TRIP.

Because he’s a safety patrol guy (he jokes that he wants to get a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a nightstick and walk the halls looking for trouble, and I joke that I smell bacon) he’s entitled to a field trip, sponsored by AAA, to Washington DC for a few days.  He’s, naturally, all about it.  And he should be, hell, it sounds like an awesome time.

The problem is, I relied on his ability to relay information.

I don’t like going through peoples things.  I’d always hand BJ her purse when she asked me for something out of it.  I always had a big problem with Mom going through my backpack in school, so I take the approach that I don’t need to do it unless I NEED to do it, and he’s too young and innocent for contraband, so I’ve let it go.  He’s a smart kid, so when I told him, back in February, “Tell me all info about this trip when it comes up, because I need to know to get the money and whatnot ready”, I believed him when it said “…mumble mumble OK”.

Yesterday, knowing that the money was due imminently, and after several weeks of him telling me that he hasn’t heard anything or received anything about it, I bit the bullet and poured out the backpack.

And found a note advertising a parent meeting on the 7th.  Of March.  I also found all sorts of things that probably should have made it through to any involved parents hands, that never did.

Sigh.

So today I moved to damage control, because I found out (after two phone calls and an email) that the money is due to them, in Knoxville, today.

I have learned a lesson.