A referee, chauffeur, and a Mom walk into a bar...

Pink Ninjas's dance class time has been changed.

I was not exactly on board with the new time change. I made sure they knew.

She used to have dance in the morning. This worked out great because parents are not allowed in the class, so I could take a quick 45 minute walk, or read. Well they called the other evening to change the time to 2:30. This means I drop her off, go pick up Sir Rowland from school, hope for no traffic, and then pick her up. Approximately 45 minutes in the car, unbuckling, re buckling, climbing in and out of the truck. There is also sitting and waiting with other suburbanites, listening to exchanges about handbags, shoes, and television shows I do not watch, "where on Earth can a person find good help", blech. I sort of feel like I am on a game show.

What used to be a 10 minutes of driving, is now a 45 minute ordeal.

I have hit the "chauffeur" stage of parenting, that I hear other Moms talk about. Time to pack an interesting book in the car, and a pen and paper I suppose.

And The Collective, who I assume hate each other because of the amount of time I spend refereeing, and what not for the wrestling, and poking...?

Well, when I went to pick up sir Rowland from school the other day and Pink Ninja was not in the car....

he says

SR: "where is PN?" (the very first thing out of his mouth)

AWTM: "she is at ballet, we have to go pick her up."

SR: "Oh, I get it, you want me to finally be able to see her at class."

AWTM: "uhhhhh..sure."

So we arrive at the dance class, and I lift SR up so he can peak into the window and see Pink Ninja in action.

We sit and wait, and watch the television news in the lobby, which on this day was Mrs. Spears arriving at court or some sensationalized crap CNN likes to waste hours on.

And then the door opens, and Pink Ninja sees Sir Rowland.

PN: "OHHHH SR, you came to see me!" (HUGGING him, like she has not seen him in months)

Just when I think they hate one another....

When we got back home, I had to make a quick change from my chauffeur hat, to my referee shirt, as fight club commenced.