So I spent the entire day with my beloved children - having a kids' garage sale in the driveway; taking them to my father-in-law's so I could volunteer at the library book sale; staying with them at my father-in-law's because he "might need to go to the hospital" but still thought he would be alright watching the kids for awhile; stopping by Wild Oats for ice cream & change for allowance money; shopping at Goodwill for a classroom stapler and some books (plus whatever the kids could find to spend the allowance money burning holes in their pockets - that would be a pirate sword and a stuffed pink hamster); walking around the block to remove kid garage sale signs from mailboxes. Now that The Man is home, I'm taking time out in my little refuge room with the fudge he brought me from his trip to the coast. I lit some candles, took a cozy seat on my Ritva, and started blissfully reading favorite blogs.
The kids, believing I must want some company since I'm all alone in here, knocked and entered. I did not make eye contact but robotically announced, "Mom is not available for playing or talking." Mason just needed his Darth Vader cape and Paige wanted a skirt from the dress-up chest (I have to share the alone-cave with pretendwear). Okay, but be fast and silent.
As they were leaving, Mason pointed at a candle on the shelf above my laptop and said, "Um, hey mom, that's burning." Gritting my teeth, I replied, "Yes, hon--" before looking up to realize he meant the straw hat hanging on the wall. The one with a black mark spreading along its brim.
I yanked the hat off the wall and thanked him; hopefully I won't be getting a big kid version of the "bad mom" note later.
Back to the fudge and reading.