The Worst (Laziest) Parents Ever

Lest we get all high and mighty and think that just because the Sound & Fury get decent grades, have no oozing sores and haven't yet reported us to CPS, we have something that jars us back to reality and reminds us that we pretty much stink at parenting.  We learned that we might be the worst (or laziest) parents on the block.

Our voice mail at the house is via the phone--no blinking light on an answering machine.  That's soooo 1985.  We're all high tech and what not (yet, we still have a landline--go figure).  Here's where the lazy comes in.  Usually the phone with the display of "New Voice Mail", is on the kitchen counter, right where we stop to close the side door and hang up our keys.  That phone has been MIA somewhere in the house for a week.  Granted, there is a little "locate" button that if I were to push, the phone would beep.  I just wasn't feeling playing Marco Polo with a phone, so I never tried.  Neither did anybody else.  Honestly, the only phone calls we get on the landline anymore are from our pharmacy reminding us of prescriptions that have been left there for a week or connect eds from the PTSA at school, I don't ever think to answer, much less check messages.  I figure that if people truly want (need) me, they will call my cell phone.  Even my 85 year old grandmother has a cell and calls my cell (still waiting on her to learn to text though).

I happened to notice that the phone in the living room said "New Voice Mail" yesterday.  Thinking I had just missed the PTSA announcement about hoodie delivery, I checked.  5 messages.  Not just missed calls, but actual messages.  Most of them were from the pharmacy and school, but not the last one.  Nope.  The last one was from Peytie's new soccer coach.  And it was a week old.  And he was saying that Peytie had practice/scrimmage Sunday.  As in this past Sunday.  As in we missed it.  Completely.  So much for starting off on the right foot with a new team.  Our kid is going to be water jockey for the rest of the season.  I did what any good wife would do--I made J call the coach.  I figure J is from 'round here, so he might know the guy and can laugh it off.  I would just be the crazy mom who was too lazy to check her messages.

I still don't know where the other phone is.  Peytie is practicing her water fetching skills as we speak.