My husband and I are enjoying a late-night snack—relaxing after the kids go to bed. He is happily crunching on his healthy cereal as I’m munching on a leftover spring roll, drowning it in soy sauce. (No comments from the peanut gallery. Comment section below is for non-judgy-food friends only.)
As I was saying, we were enjoying some quiet time and snacking before bed. One of the few joys we have left as parents. I’m kidding. Not really. I take a bite of my forbidden fruit, all salty and spring rolly and yummy then casually ask:
“Do you really think he should go to school tomorrow?” Munch.
“If he doesn’t have a temperature.” Crunch.
“I don’t think he’s better.” Munch.
“Well, he’s not a hundred percent better but he’s been home three days so, if there’s no temp…” Crunch.
“You know what?” Munch. “Doesn’t matter. He has to be temp-free for a day before you can send him back to school.” Munch, munch.
“Really?” Crunch. “I thought it was vomit-free for a day.”
“Nope.” Munch. “Temp. Or is it diarrhea?”
“Oh, right.” Crunch. “Could be…”
So this is our life. It is.
My Sunday thoughts in 200 words or less.