This morning we all woke up 30 minutes before we needed to leave the house to be on time to work – me by foot, Seth dropping off the kids in between home and work. In an ideal world, 30 minutes would have been plenty of time for all of us to get ready, dressed and out of the door – maybe even on a typical Thursday or Friday, when we start to hit our morning routine stride – but not today. After a 4-day weekend filled with lots of traveling, lots of family, lots of friends, lots of food and lots of fun I think we’d actually be lucky if being on time was our only challenge this morning. And turns out, we’re not that lucky.

After rushing around the house trying to get ourselves ready, I was cutting it close to being able to walk to the office and make it on time. I went into the playroom where the boys were playing (aka wrestling), both still in their pajamas.

“Matty, can I have a kiss? I have to go to work.”
“But, Mom, no! You can’t! I have to drive you.”
“No, I’m going to walk. Please come give me a hug.”
“MOM. You can’t walk?! There are bugs out there!”
“But Mooooom. THE BUGS!”
“Matty, it’s healthy to walk.”
“Ugh. Mom. Can you open this?”
“Matty, let’s go get dressed.”

Once I got Matty dressed (in both his outfit and his dragon cape) while listening to Abbott scream “no!” 265 times from the living room while Seth attempted to get him dressed and looked at the clock, I gave in to the fact that I wasn’t walking. We gathered all of our bags and all of our jackets and all of the other miscellaneous items, we headed outside. I had my bag on my shoulder and my phone in my hand as I followed closely behind Matty, his dragon cape flowing in the wind, recording a Snapchat video of his Monday morning spirit. Seth had jackets and Abbott in his arms and like a well-oiled machine, we both inserted our respective child into their car seat, closed the doors, took our seats in the front of the car and headed down the street.

Two blocks later we pulled onto the the busiest and most impossible street in Omaha. Dodge is a five lane street with a middle lane that sometimes carries east-bound traffic and sometimes carries west-bound traffic, depending on the time of day; there are signs every 20 feet telling you not to turn across traffic but everyone does and there are always wrecks. It’s basically a free for all and simply the worst. A block later, there was a bang on the roof and then the back of our car. Seth and I looked at each other. Just as I was about to ask him what the sound was, he beat me with a better question.

“Did you leave something on the top of the car?”

I stared at him. He stared at me.

“Fuck. My phone!” I turned around just in time to see my iPhone bouncing like a rubber ball between the traffic behind us. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Jesus, Megan, you are such a Monday. Here, I’ll turn around here.”
“Ugh, ok. Fuck.”
“You never know, maybe it’ll be fine. But Jesus Christ.”

We pulled into this company parking lot and Seth pulled up to a stop sign on the side street and without saying anything I got out of the car. Cars and trucks flew by, blowing my cardigan and my hair with them, as I walked up and down the sidewalk staring into traffic like a GD basket case. Just as I started to give up hope, I saw a flattened box of camels and thought it was my phone and then I permanently gave up hope and got back in the car.

“I didn’t see it. Maybe it’s up that way.”

We waited at the stop sign while Matty asked 24098 questions: Mom, where’s your phone? Mom, what are you doing? Mom, why did you have to go out there? Mom, do you have it? Mom, did you see that car? Mom, what is it? Mom? Mom? Mom, did you lose your phone? Mom, are we going to get it? 

When we were finally able to pull back onto the busy street, Seth and I squinted in the sun looking for any sign of my phone. Then I spotted it. Face down, two lanes over, underneath traffic going the opposite way. Fucking great. Seth pulled off of the road, made a U-turn and turned back around. When the light turned green, we pulled out slowly into the intersection. With our eyes fixated on the road we mumbled things to each other about where we thought the phone was – neither of us really paying attention.

“RIGHT THERE!” I grabbed the door handle and prepared to snatch the phone up quickly. I opened my door, the car still moving only to realize the phone was just out of reach. With all of the grace I could muster I stuck one leg out of the car, grabbed the phone and landed firmly back in the car swiftly shutting the door behind me.

“Is it a goner?” Seth’s voice was not hopeful.

We were both eager to see the damage. I turned the phone over, pressed the Home button and watched the screen light up. And just as clear and perfect as it had been before I set my phone on top of the car was the Snapchat video of Matty running down the sidewalk, his dragon cape flying in the wind with the words “Happy Monday” typed across the screen, playing on repeat.

Happy fucking Monday, indeed.