Both Erin and Adrian are back in school today, and for a brief, three-hour window, I have the house to myself before I pick up Erin at school to take her to her piano lesson and then go to Target and then get the mail and then pick up Adrian and then and then and then and then.
It’s quiet in here. I’m not watching TV, or playing any music. I was reading. I’m making some lunch. I’m…now I’m playing a slideshow of baby pictures on my TV. What the hell.
The Christmas break was long, and too short, and too long, and not long enough, and too long, and loud, and I loved it, and it put me on edge, and I want to go to there, and I want to close my eyes.
I need to finish making lunch now, or I’ll sit in silence for three hours and forget to eat, and then there will be no more time.
I just tried to publish this post, and I couldn’t, because apparently my blog was down for some reason or another. So I just spent like an hour doing WordPress updates and blah blah blah. I still haven’t eaten.
I finished doing WordPressy things. And I ate some lunch. And now my time is up.
(Editor’s Note: This was the best post in the history of blogging, but it was eaten by Gmail and WordPress. I don’t want to write it all out again.)
Erin has been thinking about “bad guys” a lot lately, and about just the right karate moves to use on him (she knows none), and how she plans to trick the bad guy. She laid out one of her plans yesterday.
“Dad, if a bad guy ever tried to get you, you need to give him a little trick. You need to…you need to, you need to say “I’ll give you some cake,” and you need to bring him with you to this house, then go inside and call 1-9-9, and get the police to put him in jail.”
Yep, every single element of her plan is wrong. And the details are a little fuzzy: Which house is she trying to get him to go into? And is there any cake, or is the cake just a lie?
It’s a trap!
We’ve had talks since then about proper procedure: lots, lots of yelling; running instead of fighting; calling the correct Emergency number (011 899 988 199 911 972 5…3) instead of 1-9-9. I hope it sinks in.
I guess I should be relieved that she’s making plans at all, instead of just acting like her dad, The Great Unplanner. “Oh, hey bad guy. Oh, you want to abduct me? Well, that sounds cool. Let’s see how that works out for a bit, until I get distracted by something shiny. Do you have Mass Effect?”
I guess what I’m saying is, maybe double-check how your kids think they should act in certain situations. And ask if there’s cake.