I called home around noon today.
Andrew: This is Buddy the Elf! What's your favorite color?
Me: Oh Golly, did you eat sugar cereal for breakfast?
Andrew: Mine's yellow, what's yours?
Me: Is your brother alive?
Andrew: Haven't seen him.
Me: Go check, I'll call you later.
It's calls like this that make me find articles online about kids left home alone sniffing glue and shampooing the cat.
Yesterday when I called, Peter answered.
Me: Hey, did you eat? (If I don't ask them to eat, they'll only eat Oatmeal Cream Pies and Fritos making their starvation my fault because I didn't tell them to eat. Seriously, I have nothing better to do than call home and remind you to eat something that isn't shrink wrapped in clear plastic).
Peter: Just getting ready to heat up some chicken nuggets.
Me: Oh no..I left you money. Just go get a quart sized ice cream from Mr Freeze. That doesn't involve vulcanizing your victuals and you can ride your bike.
Peter: Good idea.
It's calls like this that make me question my parenting skills, but least I won't spend the evening blowing out the smoke and vacuuming ashes.
On the upside, I had a Heloise moment when I rubbed the charred chicken part marks off of my good white plates with baking soda. Yep, good old fashioned working mom, stay at home destructive kid, ingenuity.
They leave for camp on Sunday. It's in exactly 60 hours. Actually 60 hours and 45 minutes. I can make it.