The Perfect Day

I am not perfect, that is clear. I have many flaws, one of which is thinking that I'm not perfect when in fact I am. It's a lack of self confidence I suppose based on the fact that I can never find T-shirts that fit my huge biceps.

And I am very bald. Hello humility, meet Hossman. Can I have my hair back?

But today I have to be perfect because it is her first day of school. I have to bring it like Kristen Dunst did in the aptly tittled film classic "Bring It On" when she faced off against the sassy south central cheerleaders. You ain't ready for this jelly.

Today of all days I have to be perfect because she needs me to be. She needs to look at dad and see that confidence and draw her own confidence from it. She is a little scared and she looks to dad for his perfect bravery.

I hunted down all her school supplies weeks ago like a big game hunter in the Serengeti. If finding "no drip glue" is a lion, then I shot that bastard in the head after traveling to 3 different watering holes known as department stores. The pencils, the water buffalo of the school supply world, were easily corralled at Walmart along with many other prey. I got them all. Perfect.

I sat on the floor the night before school and labeled every stinking stitch of clothing that she had. My mini sweat shop even labeled individual crayons, as requested by our teacher Mrs. Awesome. She wanted each crayon labeled. Boom, done, every single one. I didn't even ask why, I just did it. Because I support my school, my teacher and my perfectly labeled crayons. Perfect.

The PTA. I joined it. I "family" joined it. I'm not even sure what it means. The individual membership is 5 bucks. The family membership is 25. I have no idea what the difference is considering I'm the only one that will be going to the meetings. I'm a perfect sucker. I joined 2 PTA committees. They needed someone to put up and break down book shelves for the book fair. I'm your man. No baking for me, screw cookie sales. I'm the guy with the hammer making perfect bookshelves.

I bought a perfect school shirt for double the price I could have gotten it for at Macy's. Support the team! I'm on it, I'm supporter numero uno. I handed my perfect check to the perfect con artist gladly taking my money.

Little Hoss is bringing her lunch to school and so I planned out her next 10 lunches all at once and made some of it the night before. Her first day will go smooth because I have planned this. I even gave her money to buy food to if she wanted to so she wouldn't feel left out. Overboard? Perhaps. Perfect? Absolutely.

This day will mark her introduction to school. A lot is riding on this. If she loves school and it's stress free at the beginning, in other words--perfect, then she will be valedictorian and go on to Harvard and allow me to live in her mansion. So I have to be perfect today.

I got her bus number from the school. I am prepared.

The bus didn't show. At the perfectly appointed time as my perfect family waited in the drive way the bus didn't come. A bus did come screaming by but didn't stop. It turned up the street. I couldn't see the bus number but I don't think it was ours.

5 more minutes pass and my perfect schedule and preparation is going to perfect shit. 10 minutes go by, no bus.

15 minutes later a bus does come from the other direction and it is the bus that passed us. I jump into perfect action and wave my arms. I am either a lunatic or a concerned father and to my surprise, he stopped. I explained that my bus hadn't shown up yet and told him the bus number.

The bus driver then informed me that he believes that my bus has been reassigned and that he was taking over that route. At least he thought he was taking over some of it. Ok, he wasn't sure. But he assured me he would get her to school. My perfect daughter boarded the bus.

2 minutes after he left the right bus actually turned the corner like it was being driven by Sandra Bullock.

And then it blew right past my perfect house, my perfect family, my perfect plan for the first day of school.

I may have just sent my 5 year old daughter to high school.