Oops

No, I am not pregnant again.  That would definitely qualify as an oops, and it would be funny, but not funny ha-ha.  That would be funny like Armageddon is funny.

Every weekday I drop Veronica off at preschool, usually around 1:00, after lunch.  Rex gets to come along for the ride, because I'm not allowed to leave him home alone by himself, and also because everyone at preschool adores him.  We can't even make it past the office ladies without one of them wanting to hold him, kiss him and make believe he's their own for a few minutes while I take Veronica into Yellow Room to say goodbye.  I'm happy to relinquish him.  It's a good arrangement for everyone:  my arms get a break, the ladies get their fix, and best of all Rex avoids the visible fog of preschool germs that await once you pass the office. 

So the other day I said goodbye to Veronica with a relatively minor amount of drama, and made my escape towards the office and towards the front door of the school.  (Once I make it past the office I usually consider myself home-free; if Veronica happens to see me before that there's a new, more intense round of drama and an even more involved goodbye ritual, which could drag out for half an hour.  It's not fun.  It defeats the purpose of preschool.)  Anyway, I headed for the door and happened to notice the office manager holding a super cute baby.  I remarked to myself, "Wow, that's a really adorable baby," and as opened the door to leave, I realized that that was my baby.  

Oops.