The OH’s departure serendipitously (or not) coincided with the first day of the winter school holidays. Of all the school holidays this is the one I fear the most. It is cold, it is wet, and the two weeks stretch for an eternity.
To relieve the pressure of the first full day on our own, we headed to the local shopping centre where there was a free Mr Potato Head making activity. Did I mention it was free?
So after we spent 20 mins making Mr Potato Head out of a styrofoam egg, pipe cleaners and stick on goggle eyes (none of which stuck as the glue was CRAP!) we had to hit the supermarket. The girls were surprisingly well behaved and I almost enjoyed it.
And then my mobile rang. We were all excited, thinking the OH was calling from Munich where he had to change planes. So, I answer in my best “I’m so excited to speak to you” voice. Which I think surprised the man calling from our home alarm company somewhat.
Our alarm had been triggered in the family room. I took a deep breath, told him I was just on my way home anyway so no need to send a car or the police. I’d handle it.
The Big Missy has a slight meltdown. Crying and shaking. Being the absolutely brilliant mum I am I reassured her that everything would be just fine. I said I think I left the dog inside (although I knew full well that I hadn’t). We pay for the shopping and drive home with me mentally planning my actions, taking deep breaths to quell my racing heart.
No sign of forced entry (can you tell I worked in the claims department of an insurance company?), so in I go, leaving the girls in the car. I assume my big brave scary voice.
“Hello!? Is anyone here?” I yell as I walk through the house, whilst simultaneously flinging doors back and peering into cupboards and under beds. Why did I ask if anyone is there? What would I have done if someone had answered?
Fortunately nobody answered. The house was in the same dishevelled state as when we left it. The mess was our fault (well, the girls’ fault).
I stood there perplexed. All the windows were shut and the dog was peering at me from the other side of the back door.
And then I spotted the culprits. Their round shiny skulls mocking me, laughing at me from up high. Slowly moving to and fro in their never ending dance of mirth.
Three helium balloons dancing provocatively around the alarm sensor.