The weekend before last I attended Malice Domestic, where I met too many wonderful people to list and had the honor of wearing a special green ribbon that read “Agatha Nominee.” Naturally, I had FUN.
I left my family home where things are usually predictable because I’m almost always home and in charge. This time Daddy was in charge. And only one thing was truly predictable.
There was going to be tattling.
The first night I called home, our daughter whispered into the phone. Now, she has a tiny voice so I couldn’t get everything she said. But the gist was Daddy made them rake the grass after he mowed the lawn. And he didn’t want them to wear their “good” sneakers because he didn’t want the grass to stain their sneakers. Unfortunately, our kids only have one pair of sneakers each. So my husband suggested she wear my white sneakers to rake grass. She knew better.
Next my husband tattled. I had recommended he take the kids to an Innovation and Creativity Festival at a local university on Saturday. Something for them to do together, you know. Well, the kids only wanted to observe, not participate. Then our son tattled that Daddy got upset with them.
My flight home was delayed first a half hour, then an hour and a half, then two and a half hours. I didn’t wait to learn how many more times they would delay it. I got on a plane to the next nearest city, which is an hour and fifteen minutes from my home. Good thing my husband likes to drive. We used the ride home to finish exchanging information about our weekends—or finish tattling.
Our daughter announced Daddy put the lid on her thermos so tight neither the stronger boys from her class nor the lunchroom ladies could open it. The school’s maintenance man had to do it.
Then my husband said he prepared chicken chili for dinner on Friday, homemade donuts for breakfast on Saturday, and French toast on Sunday. He proudly added, “And they both took showers every day.” And the kids chorused in unison, “Because he made us.” See, they like one day off a week from showering. I don’t know why—they’re kids.
So does this tattling, of which I’m also guilty, occur in your family, too? Do things run more predictably when you are in charge?