The Probability of the Ridiculous

My life is ruled by the Probability of the Ridiculous. If there is the potential for something to go awry, then it will. For example, if I am late for work, a random assortment of the following will inevitably happen:

• My hair will do something weird and fuzzy
• Eyeliner and/or mascara will smear wantonly where it is not supposed to be
• One (or all) of my kids will throw a tantrum over the clothes they themselves picked out the night before to wear
• One (or all) of my kids will throw a tantrum over the breakfast that they themselves picked out at the grocery store with assurances of "I promise I'll eat this cereal."
• My coffee will spill
• One of my daughter's shoes is missing
• One of my daughters refuses to put her shoes on
• One of the veins in my head threatens to pop
• The door mat will get jammed in the front door so that I cannot pull the door closed without going back inside to fix the mat which is when the screen door will slam on me and the kids will start fighting at the car over who will get in first while they wait for me to unlock it which I can't because my hands are loaded with bags and a coffee mug, I'm fighting the screen door and the mat, and I cannot reach my keys. (Yes, this all happens simultaneously and is usually when I start yelling for the kids to stop yelling.)
• One (or all) of the seatbelts will be twisted and uncooperative when trying to quickly buckle kids in the car
• I will realize I forgot to put on deodorant
• I will get stuck behind at least 1 school bus (if not 3) that has to stop every 4.2 feet to pick up another child whose parent must administer lengthy displays of affection and then speak with the bus driver about their idea of the safest way to transport their child.
• A farm vehicle with ghastly orange 4-way blinkers will pull out in front of me (despite the fact that the road behind me is clear for miles--heaven forbid they wait an extra 2.7 seconds for me to pass!) and then crawl along the road at 15 MPH, yet I will be unable to pass their trundling backside because of the onslaught of cars coming in the opposite direction that has instantaneously appeared.
• My kids will start fighting over something miniscule and irrelevant
• My kids will start singing each a different song at the top of their lungs, and then start yelling at each other to be quiet so they can sing
• My kids will ask me 187 questions within the span of a mile
• A possum, squirrel, or rabbit will run out in the road in front of our car (I don't swerve any more)
• I will get behind the slowest moving car in 3 counties
• One (or all) of my kids will remember that she forgot something at home and cry the entire way to school because I won't turn around to go get it
• My daughter will spill her baggie of cereal all over the floor of the car and then cry the rest of the way to school because I can't pick it up for her while driving
• I will hit every stinkin' yellow-going-on-red light possible
• I will realize after a river of coffee has run down the front of my shirt that the lid of my travel mug isn't on properly
• A rude driver behind me will ride my bumper for miles, despite the fact that I can only go as fast as the grandpa in front of me
• I will get my scarf stuck around the arm of my seat while trying to get my bags out of the car and nearly strangle myself
• I will get my hair stuck on one of the buttons of my daughter's sweater or in the zipper of her coat
• My daughter will trip and fall in the parking lot
• My other two daughters will fight over who gets to hold my keys
• The front door of the school won't open the first time when I unlock it, so my daughter ends up running into the closed door
• I hit my daughter in the head with my massive school bag as I'm trying for the second time to unlock the door.
• I use the one pen that doesn't work when signing my kids in to their classes
• One (or all) of my children has to use the bathroom
• When giving kisses goodbye and admonitions of, "Obey, Be Kind, Go Poo in the Potty not in your Pants", one (or all) of my daughters won't want to part with me, which always breaks my heart until she hangs on my neck so that I start to topple over and have to put down all my bags, coffee, etc to disentangle myself while still being nurturing, giving kisses, and saying I love you.
• I apologize to my kids for yelling and one (or all) of my kids says, "Yeah, we're used to it. We forgive you."
• I leave for my classroom feeling guilty, exhausted, frustrated, and vowing to get up earlier tomorrow, which won't matter because the earlier I get up the more time the Probability of the Ridiculous has to come into play and I end up even later for school than if I had slept in for an extra 10 minutes.

This is all before 7:15 in the morning. And at some point (or several points) during this debacle I will mutter, moan, sob, or scream, "This is RIDICULOUS!" So it should come as no surprise that I spend from 7:15 to 7:30 (on a good day) sitting in silence at my desk, drinking whatever coffee hasn't spilled, and recovering from my morning. And then my students begin to arrive. And it's only Wednesday. And I refill my coffee because 1 cup is clearly not going to cut it today.