This is my Erma Bombeck Writers Competition 2012 essay entry.  Sadly, it was not a winner, but there is always 2014.  The talented winners entries can be found at: http://www.wclibrary.info/erma/winners_current.asp

by Stacey Hatton

A Midwestern morning downpour of tepid February rain was not what the doctor ordered for this perfectly quaffed mother at morning school drop-off.  In the past, I have been dressed and made-up for the notorious “screech-smooch-and-shove” a handful of times, but I’m more of a mid-morning kind of mom. However, this day was off to a roaring start.

Managing to hijack my children into the minivan an extreme 15 minutes early, so we could buy yet another “magical-disappearing” umbrella (the only variety I seem to purchase), was the first step.  Did I mention it had to be hot pink according to both my girls?

My strict itinerary was to drop off one soggy child at grade school, another dripping, shorter version at preschool, while tediously preserving my shellacked hair and perfect makeup for that once in a six-year opportunity…driver license photo renewal!

I had postponed this dreaded activity as long as I could in order to lose a few more pounds, to grow my haircut to the perfect length, touch up my roots, and ensure both children were at school with no signs of gastrointestinal distress or lurking mucus, so to not receive a call from the school nurse.

Arriving at the Department of Motor Vehicles, I ever-so-cautiously prodded open my pretty pink parasol, so as to not allow a drop of moisture to contact my head.  I strutted forth like a runway model across the parking lot in preparation for the best picture any mother of two young girls had taken in DMV history.

Are you are familiar with the meteorological term “microburst” – otherwise known as an intense downdraft of wet wind?  Because out of nowhere, this gusty Kansas rival forced himself onto my new pink friend and violated her in full view of numerous well-protected shoppers.

I started shrieking like a ninny, with my poor umbrella inside out, and began yelling at my children who weren’t even present; because obviously if I had bought the “adult” umbrella, this natural disaster wouldn’t have happened.

Somehow I was safely transported into the DMV resembling a deranged Dorothy Gale, with mascara smeared down my cheeks, hair soaking wet, and a once lovely blouse sticking to parts. I tried to primp a bit, but realized…what’s the point?  I’m a mom and this is my life.  So while fluffing and tucking, I headed in for my picture.  After all, I am without kids and how often does that happen?  Smile – Click…six year sentence.

And if you think I won’t be buying some “magical-disappearing” scissors before day’s end to shred that mangy photo, I have some ruby slippers to sell you!