Four more days.
Posting will be light this week, as we're enjoying our winter break. By "enjoying" I mean "trying not to kill each other during" and by "our" I mean "Henry's." We didn't read the school calendar, because we don't cotton to your Western linear notions of time units, and also because we forgot there was a calendar, with, like, information on it. It totally slipped our minds there was such a thing as winter break. I think we were pretending it didn't exist, hoping that if we just continued to drop him off at school the squirrels would entertain him all day. Somewhere deep in our hearts we knew about winter break; I mean, there was one last year, so we must have known. Was there one last year? Why yes, it seems there was. We have no excuse.
And now here I am with Henry, and no plans to speak of. I tried turning today's supermarket trip into a Super Secret Spy Mission, but my son rolled his eyes at me. Rolled his eyes. He's five! Who told him he could do that? Last year he would have believed just about anything was an adventure if I used enough! Exclamation! Points! To describe it! That was last year. Now I have a five-year-old, and he's too sophisticated for me. If anyone knows of any actual real-life spies who require an assistant for the week, please contact me.










February 19, 2008
Reader Comments (28)
And by real-life spy, I mean home-sick-from- work-with-a-stomach-virus-Temp.
Does Henry want to run to the store and buy me Gatorades? I'll let him pick the flavors. Top Secret and all.
And the eye rolling? Pretty sure that's lesson #1 in Kindergarten, right after they are taught the myriad ways to say "WhatEVER".
At my daughter's school they have February break, a long (4 day) weekend at Easter, and a week off at the end of April. I may shoot myself.
The rest was pretty much pummeling, yelling, and early gimlets for me.
As mentioned above, Bunker Monkey is in the middle of his winter holiday, and it is no holiday for mom. I also dropped the ball on scheduling stuff for the week, so we are currently at Defcon 3, which involves mom yelling various threats at Bunker Monkey to get him to stop poking the cat/touching mommy's computer/climbing the cabinets/trying to plug things in the electric sockets.
Pass the whiskey sours.
Best of luck to you with the whole not killing anyone thing.
And please do not tell me the secret spy stuff doesn't work. My nephew and I spent a long car ride looking for clues to the Case of the Walking Water Tower (long story). He's 4.
Good luck with the spy games
Cindy M. in Virginia