WHEN is WEDNESDAY

I have always admired women who could dress their children in cute little outfits, especially little girls with ribbons in their hair. I admire them because I used to try to dress my children in cute little outfits. The problem I always had was by the time I got the second one ready the first one looked like a little refugee. You know, like the ones you see in the magazine that you always want to send money to. My daughter used to rip the ribbon out of her hair just to see if they could retie them the way they were. My son used to cut his own hair, well parts of it. Usually just one side, or the front.
I thought I was the one who was disorganized.
I remember how they used to beg me to let them pack their lunches. Years later I found out they ate the Twinkies or Ho Ho's on the bus on the way to school. They sold their sandwich, and left the bag of potato chips on the seat.
A friend called the other day to tell me of her dilemma. I told her a long time ago she's going to make herself crazy with organization. In fact most of the time I get a headache just listening to her schedules.
It seems she decided to give each of her four children a list of activities and jobs she had assigned for the following week. She sat down with them individually and went over the plan, asking each of them if they had any questions. They all seemed to understand what was expected of them, and each of them scurried off to another part of the house to play.
Her youngest son, however, disappeared. She searched outside and in the garage, and then in the basement. None of the other kids had seen him either. Finally she looked in his room. She found him there but he was lying across his bed sobbing uncontrollably.
She sat on the edge of his bed put her arms around him, "Bennie, what's the matter?"
He looked up through his tears, "Mommy, you told me to remind you of something next Wednesday, but I don't know when Wednesday is."