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little miss ditzyAs a teenager, I had the reputation of being ‘ditzy’ or ‘flighty.’ (And those were the nice way of describing my vacant-ness during that period of my life.) A good friend who waitressed with me, once told me that she followed behind me as I served people. They would ask for a refill of tea and I would bring back soda- and she was there right behind me, giving them the correct drink. I was never aware of this.

Another gem: I once asked this same friend ‘What’s in a Vodka and tonic?’ She promptly ducked behind a counter to avoid me seeing her doubled over with laughter. Once composed, she stood and calmly told me ‘A lemon.’ I walked away perplexed, since my real question was ‘what is tonic water?’ but had poorly worded it.

The point of re-telling these anecdotes, which really should remain in the silent, rarely visited, hall of shame? I thought that I had shed that part of me years ago, but it seems that either I was never a fully recovered ditz, or children re-animated that side of me. Either way, my inner flighty lady resurfaced recently.

Example #1:

Ellwood’s school had a Thanksgiving lunch and the parents were invited to eat with their children. For some reason, I had it in my head that this was just a regular lunch and had therefore prepared a nice meal for the three of us to enjoy. Then Hubby asked why I was doing that since it was a Thanksgiving meal? (He said this in such a way as to leave me absolutely no doubt what he wanted to eat for lunch- turkey, dressing and sweet potatoes, yes sir! Which was served at 10:30 am, by the way. What’s up with feeding kids lunch in the middle of the morning?)

Example #2:

My next act of ditzy-ness is the ultimate Mom-fail. Ellwood got up early for his birthday morning. I could hear him singing ‘happy birthday’ to himself and telling Luke Skywalker what day it was. Then he came to our bedroom. And requested his birthday present. That’s when I realized that in the frenzy of planning the home birthday bash and the school birthday fun, I had forgotten to get him a present. So I did what any ‘good’ mother would do and offered him the gift from his grandmother (who had sent all Ellwood’s gifts last month!) and pretended it was from us. The important thing here is that he had a gift to open on his birthday morning, not who it’s from. Right, Mom?

Alas, I am not at all certain how to banish Ms. Ditz because I don’t know exactly how I got rid of her the first time. For certain, I don’t want her taking up permanent residence again, so drastic measures MUST be taken. Right after I finish my coca mocha nut coffee….

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