My daughter got in her car one morning last week to warm it up. I wiped the fog off her windows and she pulled out of the driveway. I’ve been driving with her to school these past weeks so she can practice driving until she gets her license. As she pulled up to the stop sign on our street I asked her if she put her wallet with her driver’s permit back in her pocket.

She paused and said, “I put it in my purse,” which she does not take to school. We didn’t have time to pull back into our driveway and let her run in and get her permit, so we switched places and I had to drive them all the way to school in her car.

As I pulled out onto the road she commented, “It’s funny you always ask me if I have my permit when I don’t have it.”

It’s because I know things. I know her behaviors: she had her permit out at the computer the night before to register with the DOL After she registered she began playing computer games. I saw the wallet sitting in front of her, and figured there was only a slim chance it actually made it back into her coat; because I know my daughter tends to forget anything else that may be going on in her life once she hits the computer and enters her virtual world.

I am the mother of the house, I know things.

I know if my husband has stopped to get a “snack” on his way home from work because he isn’t very hungry when he hits the house.

I know when he’s not taking a lunch to work because I’m in charge of purchasing the food and if the lunch meat is not disappearing at its usual rate, I know he’s not been packing lunches.

I know when my youngest daughter is irritated with me because she’ll just quit talking and get as still as a rock.

I know when my older daughter is trying to get out of doing something because she’ll flop face first with an exasperated groan onto my bed when I’m sitting in my room in the evening.

I know when my youngest is about to ask me for something because she’ll appear in front of me for no apparent reason and stand there until I ask her what she wants.

I know when my husband is pretending to be interested in what I’m doing because he’ll come into the bedroom in the evening while I’m watching TV, plant himself in front of the TV and become mesmerized over a commercial.

I know when any of my family members are not happy about being on some family outing by their inflexible demeanor.

I know my husband does not like frozen yogurt because it has the word yogurt in it and if he has to go there with the rest of us, he’ll go next door to the coffee shop and get a muffin. If it just said “frozen treat,” he would be fine with it.

I know what’s in the freezer, what’s in the pantry, if the trash needs to go out, if we’re almost out of toilet paper. I know where people set things down, where papers are and who should be where and at what time. I know these things and more; not to mention the plethora of numbers I have stuck in my head, from social security numbers to medical numbers.

I am not saying I am personally together all the time. Just last week I drove to a girls’ night out party at a friend’s house and forgot my purse. I had a gift bag in my hand, so didn’t think to grab my purse also.

But still, I’m the mother of the house, I know things.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. She is committed to writing about the humor amidst the chaos of a family. You can also read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com. Her column is available every week atmaplevalleyreporter.com under the Lifestyles section.