I took yesterday “off” from work (hard to keep the quotes away there; I feel ironic whenever I say I’m taking off from work, being self-employed and all) because one daughter’s school was closed for a staff in-service day. Thus, I figured, it would be a good day to get some quality time with her, and not even try to be entrepreneurotic like I usually do when the kids aren’t around.

The other daughter was just getting over a bad cough, so she stayed home from school too. So much for quality time with just the one kid, I thought, but, Oh Well.

I took my leisurely time getting up, made them some muffins for breakfast, and some coffee for me. Around 10:30 AM, I got a phone call from a good friend whose daughter was begging for a playdate, she said, and would it be ok if she swung by and picked up C.?

Fine, I thought, there goes one kid. I’ll get some quality time with the OTHER one, instead. Except that she started to cry when she learned that C was going off to a fun playdate. My kind hearted friend agreed to take both of them, and off went my two kids.

11:30 AM on a wednesday, and I had no work planned. My kids: gone. Too dazed by this change of plans to attempt any office work, I dragged my feet a while, raked some leaves, did a little laundry and had a nap with my scratchy-bitey cat (who still does not have a sporty purple nail job because she bites me every time I even look at her feet).

By late afternoon, I decided to make the most of the kids being gone and I grabbed my cloth shopping bags and headed to the market to get some food. Just as I was walking out of the house, who should appear (as if out of thin air, but actually, having just stepped off the bus) but Drob, known to my kids as Daddy.

Getting home in the light of day? On a wednesday? In October? Huh?

This was very weird, but perfectly acceptable, so off I went to food shop, and I didn’t even have to rush because I knew that when the kids were dropped back at the house, that D would be there to accept them.  And I figured I would hang out with the kids when I got home from shopping, since surely they’d be home by then.

“Where are the girls?” was the first thing I asked when I got back home.

“Oh, they went down the block to play at our neighbor’s house.”

By this time, I was starting to feel like I did not even HAVE children.  No one had whined at me, needed their butt wiped, complained about my singing, or climbed on my back in over six hours. The house was so quiet.

Around 6:00 PM, the girls finally came home. I fed them a bit of homemade pizza and then promptly shipped them to Grandma’s house so I could get to a 7:00 PM Back To School Night at C’s school.

By the time I got home from that, they were sleeping. I checked on each of them and kissed them in their sleep.  What a strange day.

Moral of the story?  There’s so much more time when there are no children around, but it isn’t much fun at all.