NEW RELEASES
Lets try chanting instead
When I got up this morning, I found The Bandit in the living room wearing regular clothes. 
“Hey, dude,” I told him, “You’re going to have to go get your uniform on for school.”
“No,” he said. “It’s Sunday.”
Oh no, this is bad, I thought. “Oh, baby, no. It’s Monday.” I reached out to hug him because I felt like a total creep having to spring that news on him, but he wasn’t having any of that and pushed me away.
“How do you know?” he demanded. “How do you know?”
This was sort of an esoteric, time-means-nothing, kind of thing for a seven year-old to say so I went with, “Cause they said so on the radio.”
I’ll be honest. I did take a second to do a mental double-check. How awful would it be to make the kid – and me – go to work and school on a Sunday cause I was too stupid to think it through? Unfortunately, there was no denying the facts. It was true. Today was Monday.
“NO. IT’S. NOT,” he screamed at me. “It’s Sunday.” Now he started to cry.
Wow, I totally know how he felt. I hate Mondays more than anything. But facts were facts. “I”m sorry. This really sucks, but we have to go to work and school.”
“But it’s Sunday!” A full-blown tantrum ensued and the morning devolved from there.
I wish repeating it over and over and clicking your heels together like Dorothy could make it so.
Come on everybody, repeat after me….
But how do you KNOW? OMG, that is not the kind of Schroedinger’s cat question you need on a Monday morning. Poor him. Poor you. I’m clicking like crazy here, FWIW!
I know! It was awful. How CAN I prove it’s Monday? And why should I have to? Talk about playing Devil’s Advocate.