Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Boys Weekend With Dad


While I was in D.C., Chris manned the home front, alone.  The boys were left in his care for four days.  I had my hesitations.  Would he be able to manage our lively lot?  Would he feel overwhelmed?  Would he keep the boys alive?  (Surely, being an ER Doctor, he could do that!)

Throughout the weekend, Chris kept me posted on the boys.  We exchanged a flurry of texts and a handful of phone calls.  Each time we spoke, Chris's voice chirped over the phone lines.  If he was stressed, he certainly didn't hint at that fact.  He gushed about a trip to the local yogurt shop and a shopping excursion to purchase baseball gear.  With each word from home, I relaxed just a bit.

On our return flight, I imagined the condition of our home.  Would fast food wrappers blanket the kitchen counters?  Would the laundry be piled up sky high?  Would little boys' rooms be littered with toys?  As these scenarios flashed through my mind, I could feel my pulse quicken.  Just when I started to sweat, my inner voice of reason bellowed, "Don't say one single negative word about the condition of the house or question Chris's weekend parenting of the boys.  Just be grateful for the wonderful man that took on this job for the weekend."  Right then and there, I made that promise.

When I arrive home, I learned that the boys ate pizza practically every meal (Chris assured me they had carrots for lunch at least once!) and the laundry set untouched, but the boys greeted me with smiles and a slew of fun stories from the last few days.

Someday, I think the boys may reflect fondly on the weekend mom went away.  I can almost hear them say, "Remember, the time we ate pizza all weekend with Dad..."  I imagine them smiling while they rehash those memories.


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