What kind of mother would I be if I implicated my son by blaming him for his lateness? I may threaten to, but let’s face it, I won’t

School is serious business these days, even for the very young. Not only is my six-year-old son required to bring a note when he’s late, it actually has to contain a plausible reason for the tardiness.

And that’s where it gets tricky.

For one thing, what kind of mother would I be if I implicated my son by blaming him for his lateness? I may threaten to, but let’s face it, I won’t.

There could be a host of reasons why my son may have missed his bus. He isn’t a robot after all; he’s a creative and free-spirited child with a mind of his own. And yes, having the wrong kind of cereal in the house, undone homework, oversleeping, and watching the garbage men from the window for far too long are all possible factors as well.

Today, for example, many elements converged to create the disaster wonderful adventure that was our morning.

*Mommy was up most of the night with the four-month-old baby and overslept so deeply that even the sound of (name deleted to protect the innocent) knocking all the books off the bookcase couldn’t wake her.

* Abba davened neitz and went back to bed.

* Lots and lots of soggy cheerios all over the table and floor

* No underwear! Yes, this is embarrassing, but toilet training a two-year-old takes up a lot of resources. (Note to self: Buy more underwear.)

* No pants! Oops, forgot to switch that load to the dryer.

And then before I knew it, my son was wailing, “Mommy, I need a note!”

I’ve tried the generic, quasi-apologetic route before.

To Rebbi Fried,

Sorry for the lateness. We will try to be more on time.

D. Cohen.