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"Got your backpacks?" I shouted above the clamor of five children in the car as they prepared to go to school.
Yes!
"Lunches?"
Yes!
"Homework?"
Yes! and Um...
"Um? Did I hear an 'um'?" As "Drill Sergeant Mom," I glared at my seventh-grade boy and said calmly, "Go get it!"
He scrambled out of the car, while the others fought over who got to talk to Dad first when he called later that night from his deployment to Red Flag. And I quietly wondered how "roughing it" in Las Vegas constituted "serving your country." But as my homework cadet reported in from parole, it was time to continue the roll call.
"Permission slips?"
Yes!
"Water bottles?"
Yes!
"Shoes?"
Yes! and Um...