I sat in my warm, yet comfortable chair, sipping my morning brew and mindlessly scrolling through my Facebook feed. While I waited for the caffeine to do its stuff, I heard the familiar creak of weight on the staircase.
I rose from my chair and padded over to the bottom of the staircase where I found C halfway down the flight, shielding his eyes from the offensive living room lights.
“Hi, baby!” I said, genuinely enthusiastic to see him. Ever since my mother moved in with me I don’t normally see C in the mornings I have him because I let him sleep so that my mom can sleep in. That he woke up before I left was good for me so I could get some love before I left. It was bad for her, though, because that meant she wouldn’t be able to sleep in.
C puckered up like he wanted a kiss. Awwwwwwwwww. I picked him up to receive his love and instead I got, “I just want to watch Donald Duck.”
Whether he wanted it or not he got my love. I clutched him to my chest and squeezed him firmly before yielding to his demands of Donald Duck cartoons. I put him on the couch and grabbed a blanket for him. His highness was not impressed.
“No, not that blanket. I want that blanket,” he snapped, pointing to two other blankets on the corner of the couch.
“Do you want the red blanket or the blue blanket?” I would have referred to him as Highness, but he’s not yet old enough to understand that jab.
“Um,” he hummed while considering which blanket he would prefer. This was a tough decision, evidently. Finally, his royal mind had decided. “The blue blanket.”
I grabbed the blue blanket and spread it over his little body. I then told him I needed to go to work.
“But you need to stay here!” he whined.
“I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t. Grandma will be down here in a minute. She will sit with you.”
I stifled a laugh at his disappointment. He loves his grandmother without a doubt, but it’s feels good to know he’s going to miss me when I leave.
I finished my morning routine, and now I’m here at work – writing this post instead of watching Donald Duck cartoons with my son. Life really blows sometimes.
While toiling away (bwahahaha) at work Wednesday, I received an email from the twins’ mother.
B has detention tonight due to four tardies. He says dropping him off at 7:35 doesn’t give him enough time to get to his locker and then to first block by 7:40.
Five minutes should be plenty of time to get to your locker and then to class. When I was in high school you had less time than that in between classes to get to your locker and to your next class. Furthermore, even if he’s correct…WHY THE HELL DIDN’T HE TELL ME AFTER THE FIRST TARDY?
The twin’s total lack of communication drives me insane sometimes. All he had to do was tell me and I could have started dropping him off sooner. Four tardies is enough to get you into the truancy program in Kentucky. A has had a problem with tardies in the past and I can assure you they take it seriously. I have gotten “official” letters from truancy officers because of this in the past and I have warned them both that if I get arrested because of their failure to get to class on time there WILL be hell to pay.
When questioned why he didn’t tell me he needed more time to get to class in the morning, B had this to say: “Ummm….I don’t know.”
Brilliant. Simply brilliant.