On my second day of my new full-time job, I was proud of myself for getting out of the house by 7:30am and in to work before my 8am start time. My nanny had shown up on time; my sons weren’t upset when I had to leave (actually, they were on the sofa still in their pajamas totally engrossed in Star Wars - maybe they didn’t even notice I hugged them goodbye and ran to the car); I had straightened my hair and downed two cups of coffee and had my pictures for my desk. I was on my way! But halfway to the office, my 8-year old son called.
“Mom! Where did you put my lunch!” My mind raced through the past thirty minutes and I knew I had made a peanut butter and honey sandwich and stuffed it in a brown bag with pretzels and fruit. “I put it right next to your backpack on the floor!” I said confidently.
A minute later, he called back. “It’s not there,” he stated equally as confident. My nanny then got on the phone. “It’s not there!” she repeated. I was about to scream at her to look harder when I happened to look down at the passenger seat. There, next to my datebook and pictures, was my son’s lunch bag. I’d taken it to work by mistake.
I broke the news to him, but he had plenty of time to make another before the bus came. As for me, I took his lunch to work and munched on that food all day, laughing as I realized that getting things right 98 percent of time can work out just fine.
