This past week was a rough one in terms of my parenting partnership with Lincoln. Monday and Tuesday he had to work late in preparation to be away from the office on Wednesday. Wednesday was his birthday, so I felt like it should be his day off from domestic responsibilities. (He didn't really take it off, he's always helpful, but I didn't feel like I should ask anything of him.) We had anticipated him returning late from Chicago that day, so we planned his birthday celebration for Thursday night. I spent Thursday preparing for the evening, baking bread and making cheesecake. The rest of the evening we celebrated his birthday. Friday night Lincoln went to a game night with "the guys". Saturday morning, Lincoln went fishing. I knew he wouldn't be back until at least noon, because immediately after fishing he was going to help Karen and Jamie get a piano an hour away.
So this gets me to my story.
Saturday morning the kids woke up around 6:45. (Maybe earlier, but that was when they came upstairs and roused me.) I told them to go eat breakfast and wake me up at 7:30. I rolled over and curled up in my nice, warm, comfy bed, looking forward to another 1/2 hour of rest. Ten minutes later they came in the door, and excitedly surprised me with this:
I was bitter about being awakened before 7:30, but how can you be angry when your kids have been so sweet? I thought Julia's candles were a nice touch. Don't be fooled! They are actually cheesesticks! (I didn't eat them because we hadn't had any cheesesticks in the house for weeks, to my knowledge.)
I sat up in bed and began to munch my toast. Approximately 2 minutes had passed since the surprise, when I heard Jesse and Devon fighting about my grape juice that I had requested they leave in the kitchen for me, to avoid spilling it in my room. Approximately 2.5 more seconds passed before I heard the glass hit the kitchen floor. Ready to weep, I called, "Please tell me that wasn't grape juice hitting the floor!" Renie ran to investigate for me and reported, "Yup, Mom. It's grape juice spilled all over." I moaned and left my warm cocoon to stomp to the kitchen and sop up sticky grape juice. I cleaned and lectured no one in particular, then returned to my bed to eat and hide. Approximately 1.5 minutes passed before I heard the tell-tale splatter of liquid once again hitting the floor. Incredulously, I lept from my bed and found Jesse's cup of grape juice emptied on the kitchen floor. I still don't know if it was an accident or a deliberate act to empty his cup to make way for water. I do know that my cleaning was not very thorough when completed with blurry morning eyes. The floor was sticky for several hours until I got up the energy to tackle it again.
So lesson learned. It's not a good idea to attempt to sleep in when the children are awake and the husband is away. Duly noted.