I've been keeping this blog week-daily since 2006 and sometimes there are dry spells. But honestly I have more stuff to contribute here than I ever thought when I started thanks to my wacky family. Sometimes I think we should be the subject of a sitcom or reality show. Then I realize that most days we are truly boring and I perish the thought.
Case in point: I've been leaving the kids alone for a few hours a day so I can come to work. I'm working shorter hours (8:30-2:30) so I can still spend a good part of the day with them. And don't worry... in case you forgot they're 13, 11 and 9. I told them at any point they can call me for any reason. For any reason. One day they did just that. When the office phone rang I could see on the display that it was from home. I said a mental (and, unfortunately, audible) "uh oh" and, put aside my usually pleasant phone manner and answered "What happened??!"
It was Audrey. She explained that Henry had locked the bathroom door and shut it. They were all locked outside and she had to pee "real bad". Of course my first thought was that she should use the bathroom downstairs. She flatly said no. I understood why. It's small, cramped, gross (since I'm afraid to go in there to clean it) and anytime I've seen a centipede in the house it's been in there. UCK.
So I settled in for the instructions:
Me: Go into my bedroom closet near the window. On the closet floor you'll see a red bag with knitting needles inside. Grab one that says 4.5mm. Do you have it? Audrey: Yes. Me: Go back to the bathroom door. See the hole in the handle? Push the knitting needle into it and turn the handle at the same time. Are you doing it? Audrey: I'm getting Elliott to help... okay... THANKS MUMMY!
I explained to my tittering co-workers what happened and how I'm thankful for a few things:
1. That I knit 2. That it hasn't been so long that I've knitted that I didn't know where those darn needles were 3. That our bathroom doorknobs have those little unlock holes in them to unlock from the outside 4. That I know how to unlock them... I have no idea where or when I learned how 5. That the kids knew to call me and not 911 6. That this was the worst thing they called me for while they were alone.
I'm a married mother of 3. I'm Canadian. I'm a Whovian, a sci-fi nerd, a ukulele player, knitter, cartoon/animé lover and a tv/pop culture-holic, I keep a blog that inflates my already swollen ego. I'm not all that interesting but I have high self-esteem which makes up for it.
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Let's talk about the stuff I love.