SwampDaughter called Thursday night and asked “When I called you yesterday, did I tell you that I was working Saturday and that you would need to keep the kids?”
“No, no you did NOT!” I replied. “You told me that two hamsters were turned into the shelter, and asked me if I wanted them, which I didn’t.”
“Oh! Well, at least I covered the important stuff. The kids will be coming Friday night.”
To prepare for their arrival, I shampooed the carpet (why, I dunno) on Friday morning. I mopped floors. I dusted. I picked up and straightened and put away. This morning, there are (stinky) boy socks everywhere. Pillows are scattered. I can’t see the carpet because there are too many toys on it. And the formerly clean kitchen floor has oatmeal and chocolate milk and root beer all over it. Naturally, the visitors that were coming yesterday postponed their visit until today. That’ll teach them to visit me!
I was awakened at 4:00 a.m. this morning by frantic door rattling and sobbing. “Zoe, what in the WORLD are you doing?” I asked, as I rushed out to get her. “No more MeeMaw!” she sobbed loudly. “No more Papa! No more Jakie. Dyllie DEAD!” Well, Dylan was certainly dead to the world, sound asleep on the chair where she’d tried frantically to wake him. Jacob was sleeping on the couch in the living room. “Honey, we’re right here. We were just sleeping!” I reassured her. Then I had to get her chocolate milk and food. Dylan, who’d slept through his sister sobbing and trying to escape the house awakened at this point. “Hey! Can we have oatmeal for breakfast?” I assured him that we could, IN THE MORNING. “Okay!” he replied cheerfully and immediately fell back asleep.
Zoe and I watched three or four more episodes of LeapFrog before she fell asleep. I collapsed into a living room La-Z-Boy and fell asleep as well.
When I opened my eyes again, Dylan’s face was about six inches from mine, and he was staring intently into my eyes. “I THOUGHT I saw you move!” he said with great satisfaction. “So, how about that oatmeal?”
Well. Once my heart started beating again, I was happy to comply.