The Diva stayed after school today. Nothing unusual in that. Her teacher stays every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to help students. It’s basically an after school study hall. The Diva adores her teacher so she stays quite a bit, even though she doesn’t require any extra help.
3:20 rolls around. The Postman is home already – it was a fairly good day for him. The Captain is going to get off the bus at 3:30 ish. I give Postman a kiss, ask him if he needs anything, and head out the door to get my daughter. 3:40-ish…we head up the road to our house…and no Postman’s car in the drive. Hmmmmm, odd. We enter the house and find the cat house – which is usually on the counter (she lives on the counters due to the dogs) on the floor about 3 0r 4 feet from the counter. Again, odd. I call out. No answer. I call Postman’s cell. Right to voice mail. I go next door to his parents house…they tell me my son got off the bus and is in the house. No, he’s not. “Call T, he’ll answer”. No he won’t – tried that. Back to the house. At this point my daughter is starting to hyperventilate, sure that something is wrong. I asked her to check her brother’s room to see if his bookpack is there. She informs me it is and all his homework is all over the floor. The dogs are all accounted for and seem fine. I look in the spot where T keeps his keys and phone and his phone is still there.
Ok. By all accounts, it looks to me as if they have rushed out of there for some reason. I grab both phones and my keys and tell H to get in the car. We drive to the hospital (which is 1/3 mile from our house) and cruise the parking lot. As she’s sobbing I am telling her she is not helping. As we pull out of the parking lot, headed to the animal clinic next – my cell rings. By the ring, I can tell it’s coming from home. “Where the F*** are you?” is my greeting. I hear a laugh…”I just ran to the bank, hon”. I hung up and said to H “I cannot talk to him right now”.
So we head home and there they are…the two of them…standing in the driveway playing with their new R/C helicopter. Jackasses. We got out of the car and walked into the house without so much as a peep.
A few minutes later they walk in and T says “You can’t possibly be mad at me for going to the bank!”
No. You’re right. I CAN be mad at you for going to the bank and not leaving a note or calling my cell to let me know! H still hasn’t talked to either of them.
So here is where I admit that I am a bit high strung at times. BUT…my kid and SO were missing and like I mentioned…by all accounts it appeared as though something was wrong.
I am on my second glass of wine.
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck
Update: The Postman has informed me that if anything were actually seriously wrong, he would have called me. He thinks this is the funniest thing that has happened in our house in a long time.