Last week my husband and I left the kids for a rare weekend away, on our own, without any kids. This isn’t something that happens very often as we have no one to watch our kids if we leave, so we can only pop away if a babysitter capable of keeping all three kids, two dogs and two cats alive, fed and dressed comes along, and is willing to keep them, so we can have a weekend off. Luckily, this year, the fates smiled upon us ad we have had a fabulous sitter capable of all of the above, and no, I won’t share her number.
I made it abundantly clear when we left town that I just wanted the kids alive when I returned, and that if they chose not to eat veggies or do homework that would be okay. Not ideal, but okay, and when you haven’t left your kids in three years, okay will do.
But I was a bit shocked at how well our sitter was doing when we checked in. Aside from my daughter wearing pajamas to school and my son cutting off his eyebrow, they seemed fine. This made me feel like a total underachieving mom because I require the help of said babysitter to function during the week and she was pulling this off on her own. This text was the only sign she might be feeling stress:
So it was a bit of a relief when we received the phone call from the fire alarm company as we were driving home asking if our house was actually on fire or if this was (yet another) false alarm. I called the house and my son answered the phone.
“Honey, is the house on fire?”
Screams, shouts, “Take that out of the microwave.” I heard our sitter yell.
“Is there metal in the microwave,” I asked?
“Maybe, but the house is NOT on fire. Gotta go.”
We called off the firetrucks and made it home to three healthy kids, minus one eyebrow.
When I asked my son if there had been any catastrophes other than the eyebrow, microwave and pajamas, he said “Oh yes.”
I was elated. “What happened?”
Well, when the fire alarm went off we left a door open and lost a cat. We spent an hour looking for the cat and lost our sister. But then we found our sister and realized we never lost the cat.
Just for fun my son sent us the above photo the week we returned, a week that my husband came home no earlier than midnight and worked one twenty four hour day. I realized that the photo had been photoshopped and laughed with my son. My husband, in his state of extreme exhaustion, didn’t get the joke, and when he finally arrived home on Friday looked at me and asked, in all seriousness, “did you shave his head?”
“Huh, why would I shave my son’s head?”
“Because he can’t walk around like that,” and with that comment he pulled out the clippers he uses to shave patients heads in the operating room (I think someone else may actually shave the heads but that’s not terribly relevant).
In his sleep deprived state he had been prepared to shave our sons head. Which, is why, every once in a while parents need to get away.