Overdue

Originally uploaded by laundrylessons.

My bathmats were overdue for the laundry. Cat paw prints and dirt from John’s shoes made their marks. (Not to mention the unseen.) So I threw them in the wash this morning. A lot of stuff is overdue. The fines I pay at the library are a worthy donation for my forgetfulness. The school still let JP go on the field trip even though I sent the permission slip in a day late. I’ve had to talk my way out of a couple late fees on bills over the years. And, I don’t wash my sheets often enough, at least according to Oprah who changes hers every other day. But then again, I don’t have a personal assistant to keep track of all the dates, deadlines and over due stuff.

Typically I don’t mind being late with stuff. Remarking, “I have four kids,” and rolling my eyes, generally gets me off the “lame mom” list. But I seem to be in the constant bad graces of the dentist. Post cards arrive at the house proclaiming that we’re “overdue” for appointments. The office has even left messages on the answering machine about our appointment status. So I finally buckled down and called for our annual, yes that is annual appointments, this week.

“Oh yes, I see you’re overdue,” said the receptionist. Well, not technically. See we go to the dentist once a year, not every six months. So in my book, we’re DUE for appointments, NOT overdue. The dentist can’t schedule five appointments at a time and we all have good teeth. Collectively the kids have four cavities. JP has two, due to a lack of enamel on two teeth, and Merritt has two because she grinds her teeth and has weakened the bases of her front teeth. So I’ve made the decision that we go annually. Plus, it’s darn expensive to take care of that many teeth.

“Overdue” makes me feel bad. If the dentist’s card arrived, saying, “We’ll guarantee you’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes or less” or “Free Starbucks card with each child’s cleaning,” then I may feel a more pressing need to react. But since I don’t get to drink lattes while sitting in the office for several hours, I’ve decided I’m not overdue, just uninspired.

When JP was late for baseball practice or the health form for Paige’s track coach wasn’t turned in, I felt a couple seconds of mom guilt, but I let it pass, knowing that kids accept homemade cookies as fines and I don’t mind paying that kind of late fee.