Being a superhero is pretty common at the Belknap home which makes for a wide assortment of capes. We have a black Dracula cape; a fleece Spiderman cape; a fleece butterfly cape; a red devil cape; and a red, white and blue Wonder Woman cape circa Halloween 1976. I settled on the latter seeing as how it was long enough to cover my torso and felt very patriotic, something I guessed any good Super Mom would be. With cape secure, mask intact and about three handfuls of supplies, I was up, up and away to volunteer at my daughter’s Halloween party.
When you have three children in school, you must divide and conquer. There’s no way you can attend three different school parties simultaneously, unless you’re faster than a speeding bullet or can change the rotation of the earth in order to go back in time and attend them all (this is Halloween, not Fantasy Island, people!). Because of this, I had agreed to attend Sis’s Halloween party, bring a relish tray for Sport’s party and concoct a Halloween game for Spunk’s party. I know! I feel pretty super just writing about. Unfortunately this is the beginning and not the end of my tale.
First of all, the parking lot was full when I arrived so I had to park two blocks away from the school. But never fear! Super Mom easily extracted her packages from the van and speed towards the entrance. But remember, this isn’t really Super Mom but a mere human mother who often uses the phrase, “neener, neener, neener” when talking to her own children.
I dropped the relish tray one block in.
I then proceeded to bend down and gather the now dirty carrots and celery sticks, which, I must say, cannot look more ridiculous than when done by a grown woman wearing a red mask and star-spangled cape that she is now stepping upon and choking herself with. Oh, and I was also stepping on Spunk's Halloween game.
Let me also say that when a grown woman wearing a red, white and blue Wonder Woman cape circa Halloween 1976 walks in on her son’s already rambunctious Halloween party to discover she is the only parent wearing a costume and delivering a sad tale about an upended relish tray, she does not win any nominations for Mother of the Year, let alone best pretend Super Mom.
At the end of the day when I collected my children and aforementioned supplies, I was not surprised to drop the untouched relish tray yet again, this time in the first-grade hallway. Know why? Because vegetables are my kryptonite. That and my portable relish tray is the worst in the history of the planet.
But don’t worry, I was able to drown my sorrows in fructose corn syrup all weekend long, something which may also negatively impact my super mom powers.
And now that I think about it, that explains a lot.