Someone Get Me a Hair Net and a Nametag

He looks harmless, but once he opens his mouth
you realize he's a whiny tool.

What's the worst time of day in your house? When my kids were little it was unequivocally "the witching hour". Well hours, plural. Sometime between 3-6pm, my kids would go through a hideous transformation like Michael Jackson in the "Thriller" video.  In retrospect, I think they were like that all day, but my tolerance was shot by late afternoon and I was counting the minutes til "the great American handoff" (as I mentally called it) when my husband walked through the door and I could seek reprieve in the privacy of my closet or liquor cabinet. How I used to envy his being stuck in traffic choosing his own radio station while I struggled to not let my kids turn into Caillou. Gone are the days of little, little kids and the interminable afternoons, but they were replaced by my current and longer term mommy hell: the making of the school lunch.

Sound completely ridiculous? I totally agree, but I loathe it more than laundry on sheet changing day. I loathe it more than running out of hot water on body hair management day. When you have three kids who like three different meals, leave on three different busses to attend three different schools, making their lunches is no easy feat. And of course this is all happening before the damn rooster's Ambien has worn off. Yes, I realize I could make them the night before or even have them do it, but for some reason I keep this hideous task to myself. Maybe the control freak in me wants to make sure they have a somewhat balanced meal. Maybe I subconsciously enjoy the self-torture and the "I've done more by 7am than most people do all day" warped sense of accomplishment. Most likely it's simply self preservation: we will all fight less if I just do it myself.

I dream about the days when they bought school lunch. Well, at least the high schooler did, but that was so far back Obama had brown hair.

The middle schooler says she bought one time in 2nd grade out of necessity and wears her nearly perfect home-brought record with pride. Sometimes I secretly hope she will leave her lunch at home and have to buy something.

However, when it comes to bringing school lunch, the 3rd grader takes the cake (but she'd probably reject that too). She eats a wide variety of food at home, but declares them all disgusting when placed in the confines of a lunchbox. For years I got away with a thermos of soup, but now that's out. Also eliminated: pasta, yogurt, and sandwiches of any kind. Good times.

But today is Friday and Fridays rock. And not just because I've seen my modern day witching hour of 6:15am for the last time this week. For the next 60+ hours I get to stash those Vera Bradley lunch boxes out of sight and mind; leaving plenty of space in this kooky brain to mentally reminisce about the olden days when my biggest concern was deciding which guy from Blue's Clues was hotter.

Joe, on the left, replaced Steve, the original dork-a-licious host.

Blue was definitely the best looking one on the show.