Something happened to me during the last day of school.

We handed the bus driver her gift card, loaded the kids into the van to be chauffeured to school (because suddenly they are royalty) and headed out.

When the girls waved goodbye, it dawned on me, this is the last day I have to get anything done before the kids are home for the entire summer.

I started getting nervous on all fronts.

First, we hit Costco to load up on supplies. Because Costco closes during the summer?

Then a terrible shock came over my body. Hanna broke her flip-flops yesterday at school. If I don’t go to Old Navy RIGHT NOW and replace them, there will be no other time, all summer, not a thirty minute window that I’ll have the opportunity.

I washed not just sheets but all duvet covers and comforters. Because the girls wrap themselves in their bedding when they’re home and there’s no chance at finding a two hour block when the blankets are not in use.

When will I ever get a hair-cut between now and September?

Will my nails still have bits of polish and what looks like the cross section of a grade four sedimentary rock formation homework sheet from the time I had them polished with gel 8 weeks ago and immediately began chipping away at the remarkably hard new surface?

Oh God, what about meal planning? They’re going to be home every day, all day? When will there be time to cook? I better buy one of those 10lbs bags of bread flour.

I know I complained about school lunches, I mean man, did I complain, but at least whatever cruel tricks I played on the kids forcing them to eat cherry tomatoes five days in a row happened somewhere outside of this house. Now I’m going to hear about it and potentially be hit by tomatoes. That coupled with the terrible fingernails and split ends and I might as well just give up.

When the girl who did my eyebrows last asked, “Do you want to pre-book your next appointment?” I nearly started to cry. Doesn’t she get it? By the time I come back here, I’ll look like I have a strip of brown felt on my forehead.

Ellie told me two nights before the last day of school that she needed her violin for her class talent show.

Um, the violin you haven’t played for over a year?

The violin I GAVE away three weeks ago without you knowing?

What talent show?

I convinced her to learn a couple of sure-to-be-hilarious jokes to recite to the class and she went for it.

Then she set up shop at the kitchen table and asked me for 21 greeting cards so she could write a note to everyone in her class.

Hang on Mom. Hang. On. We are so close to the end.

Then this morning, on the last day of school, just as we were heading outside she said, “Oh Mommy, I need snacks for the class today for after the talent show.”

Get in the van Ellie. You just tell everyone in your class your duvet cover is clean.