This morning, I drove to Arkansas Tech, where I was scheduled to speak to two classes about journalism.

Minutes before my first talk, as the students took their seats, my cell phone rang.

It was my husband.

“Hello,” I murmured. “I’m about to start talking.”

“We have serious situation!” Hubs barked, nearly blowing out my eardrum in his hysteria.

“Can I call you back?” I asked. “I’m standing in the front of the room.”

“You forgot about the E-man’s valentines,” a panicked Hubs informed me. “What do I do? I have jury duty in 30 minutes.”

Oh no.

Somewhere in our snow-day-cluttered house was a box of SpongeBob valentines, which I had completely forgotten to address and sign.

Where did I put them?

The pre-K Valentine party was set for 11 a.m. But I was in Russellville. And Hubs had to get to the courthouse.

I am a horrible mother.

“You have to find them,” I whisper-hissed.

“Never mind,” Hubs said. “I already … {crackle, crackle} of it. {crackle, crackle} took some {crackle, crackle} and the teacher will {crackle, crackle}

Mommy guilt washed over me. I’d let the E-man down.

And rather than swim in said guilt, I would have to shift gears and talk shop.

Several hours later, I tracked down Hubs.

“OK, so what happened? What did you do?”

Turns out that in the 30 minutes he had left before jury duty, Hubs managed to hit the grocery store, where he bought gift bags, several varieties of candy and other party favors. Then he hurriedly assembled them in his truck and dropped them off at the daycare.

“You did what?!” I screeched. “You outdid me! We don’t do bags. We do cards. Now you’ve gone and set a precedent. I’m known as the slacker mom and  you’ve totally ruined my street cred.”

“I HAD to,” Hubs replied. “When I walked into his classroom, all these women were bringing in cute little bags stuffed with candy. I couldn’t just go buy a bunch of cards.”

“What’s wrong with just cards?” I asked. “I even got him SpongeBob ones.”

Hubs sniffed indignantly.

“He would have been a social leper. You should have seen what the other kids’ parents were handing out.”

So. Which is better? Yeah, I know.

FAIL.

But I’ve learned my lesson. Next year, I  am sooooo delegating all Valentine-related duties to Hubs.