Part I:
Today at work I received a call from home on my cell phone. It's unusual for my wife to call my cell phone - she usually calls my office line - so I was only mildly surprised when it was my five year old son.
"Hey, dad, guess what? Mom left us home alone while she went to the store."
"Oh. So you're home alone with [9 year old daughter]?"
"Yup, but mom took [2.5 year old daughter]."
"Okay. Can you put your sister on?"
After talking to my daughter and instructing her to be nice, I hung up and tried to call my wife on her cell. No answer, which is not surprising because she is very bad at answering her phone.
I was sitting there marveling at the fact that my closet-genius 5 year old had my cell phone number memorized and wasn't afraid to use it when I got another call, this time from my daughter, informing me that (a) my son had gone into the forbidden sanctum that is my room, (b) raided my bedstand and (c) decided to consume one of my heavily-caffeinated energy gels. This is not as bad as it sounds because I prefer him to raid the energy gels than consume the Johnson & Johnson product his 2.5 year old sister prefers (also in the nightstand) and because I don't have to deal with the wired kid. As long as I can find my wife first.
I try her cell again. No response.
At this point I have a work problem to deal with and get distracted for two minutes. In the meantime, my resourceful kids decide it is in their best interest to leave the house and walk down the street to a neighbor's house and inform him that they've been left home alone.
As I'm packing up to run home to give at least some sort of supervision, I decide to call home and let the kids know I'm coming. And my wife answers. Apparently she was unhappy that the kids took too long to get ready and just left them. This is not entirely out of the blue because we have been debating whether or not the older daughter is mature enough to watch her siblings for short stretches (answer: apparently not).
We had a brief and totally unheated discussion (seriously) about ways to handle this better next time, after which she called the neighbor and went off to collect her parent of the year award. Those last words are hers, not mine.
I may take a day off tomorrow and work from home to give her a break.
Today at work I received a call from home on my cell phone. It's unusual for my wife to call my cell phone - she usually calls my office line - so I was only mildly surprised when it was my five year old son.
"Hey, dad, guess what? Mom left us home alone while she went to the store."
"Oh. So you're home alone with [9 year old daughter]?"
"Yup, but mom took [2.5 year old daughter]."
"Okay. Can you put your sister on?"
After talking to my daughter and instructing her to be nice, I hung up and tried to call my wife on her cell. No answer, which is not surprising because she is very bad at answering her phone.
I was sitting there marveling at the fact that my closet-genius 5 year old had my cell phone number memorized and wasn't afraid to use it when I got another call, this time from my daughter, informing me that (a) my son had gone into the forbidden sanctum that is my room, (b) raided my bedstand and (c) decided to consume one of my heavily-caffeinated energy gels. This is not as bad as it sounds because I prefer him to raid the energy gels than consume the Johnson & Johnson product his 2.5 year old sister prefers (also in the nightstand) and because I don't have to deal with the wired kid. As long as I can find my wife first.
I try her cell again. No response.
At this point I have a work problem to deal with and get distracted for two minutes. In the meantime, my resourceful kids decide it is in their best interest to leave the house and walk down the street to a neighbor's house and inform him that they've been left home alone.
As I'm packing up to run home to give at least some sort of supervision, I decide to call home and let the kids know I'm coming. And my wife answers. Apparently she was unhappy that the kids took too long to get ready and just left them. This is not entirely out of the blue because we have been debating whether or not the older daughter is mature enough to watch her siblings for short stretches (answer: apparently not).
We had a brief and totally unheated discussion (seriously) about ways to handle this better next time, after which she called the neighbor and went off to collect her parent of the year award. Those last words are hers, not mine.
I may take a day off tomorrow and work from home to give her a break.

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