The less I know, the better
For the very rare event where my children get off of the school bus with no parent at home, they are equipped with a spare key that allows them access to the basement, and thereby the house. Such was the case last week, when my husband took the middle girl to a doctor’s appointment after school and I had accepted a temporary position of employment.
That meant that only the two remaining children were scheduled to be getting off of the school bus and were set to be home alone.
We have a contingency plan, which includes knowing what time to expect them home, and that they must always call one of us to say they have all gotten inside. Aside from that one stipulation, they are pretty free to just hang out until one or both of us arrive to get them corralled into doing their chores and homework.
That afternoon, I didn’t hear from the kids in the time frame I had expected to. I waited a few minutes longer and tried to call the house. I got no answer.
After a few more minutes, I tried again. When I still could not get anyone to pick up the phone, I began to get a little worried. I called my husband to see if he had heard from them. He hadn’t. I tried to call the house again, but there was still no answer.
Just as panic was about to set in, I received a text from my daughter. “You forgot to leave the kitchen door unlocked,” it read, “and we are stuck in the basement.”
After thanking God that they were at least safe, I replied, “Someone will be home in an hour or so. You are safe, warm and dry. You have lights, a couch and a television. Just hang out and we’ll be home as soon as possible.”
Assuming that it was over, I was surprised to receive a phone call from her a half an hour later.
“Where did you find a phone down there?” I asked.
“I didn’t find a phone downstairs,” she replied cryptically.
“You called from the house,” I said, confused.
“Yes, I did,” she continued to taunt.
“Seriously,” I said, my curiosity piqued. “How did you get hold of the phone? How did you get upstairs?”
“I broke in,” she replied, smugly. I could hear her brother laughing in the background.
“How do you mean?” I asked again.
“Well, first I got a ladder,” she began.
“We were on the roof,” I could hear him add.
“Never mind,” I interrupted. “I don’t think I want to know after all.”
I never know what to expect from these kids, except for the unexpected. But sometimes, it’s best for me to remain in the dark about the details.
Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.