I will admit that thanks to her grandparents, my kindergartner does have her own alarm clock.  By the time I roll my butt out of bed and stumble blindly to the coffee pot, she is dressed, her teeth are brushed and she has made her own breakfast.  However, that is not the point here.

The point is that I have “arrived” at adulthood.  The days of existing as a screw-up kid cleverly disguised as a 28 year old responsible mother of 2 are over.  I am finally a bonafide grown up.

I joined the PTO. 

For the cool kids out there that have no idea what the PTO is, let me bring you up to speed.  PTO stands for Parent/Teacher Organization. In a nutshell, I – the mom who taught her preschoolers the art of headbanging – will be hosting bake sales, chaperoning field trips, and cutting out Christmas snowflake decorations this school year. 

And if you make fun of me, I promise to punch you in the mouth, knit you a doily, and sop up your blood with it.

Coming to a bumper near you…