Five p.m. around these parts is daycare pickup time. It’s usually a struggle because they want to play with the other kids or finish the picture they’re in the middle of colouring, or because they’re little jerks, but once in a while they leave quietly, without a fight. Today was (almost) one of those days. Eirinn did have a picture she needed to finish and Avery did have a rousing game of Run Around With Flying Cars, Bashing Into People And Furniture And Each Other that she was only midway through, but once they were done with all that, we left without a tear or a scolding or a “GAH, JUST PUT YOUR BOOTS ON YOUR FEET LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN PERSON!” It was nice, for a change.
And then, as soon as we walked in the door, they both lost their pants and started playing Punch The Air, Except When You Get In The Way, But That’s Not My Fault, and this house, sometimes, is like Lord of the Flies, minus the heads on stakes. So far. Because how on EARTH are you supposed to parent when your charges are so darn unpredictable?