When you are parenting a high school marching band kid, chauffeuring to and from practices is part of the routine.
We had staff development yesterday--a student holiday--and my day was filled with training on our district's new financial system, a committee meeting, and setting up for our fall book fair in the library. Fortunately, my husband was able to leave work early to drive our youngest to the district stadium for his five o'clock call time.
I had started my morning with my usual four-thirty alarm, battled a stomach bug all day, and finally left work at five forty-five in the afternoon. Feeling exhausted and drained by the time I got home, all I could manage was microwaving a sweet potato to settle my stomach, laying on the couch to watch some TV, and zoning out on my Facebook feed and Candy Crush Soda Saga.
At eight-thirty, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, traded my contacts for glasses and shoes and socks for house slippers...and got into the car with my husband to pick up our marching band student. I was reminded once again how nice it was to have my husband drive--he was on night shift for twenty years, and I was doing most of the chauffeuring until three years ago. Picking up our youngest after evening practices almost counts as a date night!
It was nine twenty in the evening when we finally made our way home. I took off my glasses to rub my eyes...and was awed by the fuzzy, pretty lights that surrounded me. In my punch-drunk exhausted state, I went on and on about how the street lights and headlights looked like large, twinkling Christmas ornaments. I was surprised by how much I could see--lines on the road, windows on buildings, store signs. I'm rarely out and about in the evenings these days, and even more infrequently without contacts on, so it was enlightening (pun intended) to see how my eyes worked without assistance.
I left my glasses off until we pulled into the driveway. Focused on sleep, I toddled off to bed, removing my bifocal spectacles one more time before placing them on the nightstand and turning off the not-so-fuzzy-or-sparkling lamp.