My wife has left me in charge for the weekend. She’s on her annual chick trip to the beach and won’t be back until Monday.
I’m the first to acknowledge that she deserves down-time away from home. Everybody needs to get away from time to time.
However, she’s taking a risk and I think she knows it. Our two kids are here with me, which is sort of like leaving them in the care of the Absent Minded Professor. They may or may not be here when she gets back. And, assuming I haven’t misplaced one or both of them, they may or may not have been fed, showered or be wearing clean clothes.
It’s a crapshoot and I can hear the nervousness in her voice when she calls.
Already, she’s touched base more than a couple of times and she only left yesterday.
This morning, she called at the crack of dawn to be sure I had the kids up and ready for school.
“Don’t trust me?” I said.
She said “no” a little too quickly.
Despite her lack of faith in my ability to keep track of our children, I think I’ve done okay so far. The kids have only complained about being hungry a couple of times. I got my son to soccer practice on-time last night. My daughter made it to piano lessons with no problem and we all made it home in one piece.
There’s still time to mess things up, though. My wife has only been gone for 24 hours. There’s 72 more to go.