Suddenly there was a big BANG from our bedroom and we raced in to find Miss3 sitting on the floor on my side of the bed with her Christmas present – a set of Barbie furniture for the new dollhouse the girls are getting – which had been hidden cleverly under my side of the bed.
“How did this happen?” I whispered to Tracey. I mean, really. How? The kids don’t know my side of the bed exists. It’s why I like it there.
The story of how this happened started a mere fifteen minutes earlier.
I was sitting at work today eating my lunch out of one of the kids’ pink lunch boxes. I confess I was enjoying unwrapping a mystery sandwich and then finding some biscuits. It was all a little exciting, especially as we’d run out of cling wrap so it was all individually wrapped in alfoil meaning the whole thing was kind of spaceman themed.
I’d just finished my sandwich, which turned out to be ham, salami and salad, and thought I should call my wife to say thank you. Usually I go home for lunch but this morning she was making the lunch boxes up and asked if I’d like one.
The phone rang out. She must be shopping or visiting friends, I thought, and then decided I’d drivehome anyway and make myself a coffee.
I parked the car under our balcony and walked up past my impressive tomato garden to the front. I’d just stepped onto the balcony when I noticed our other car in the driveway. But all the windows and doors of the house were shut tight.
She must be working on a photo shoot, I thought, and stuck my key into the lock.
Which was when I remembered why Tracey had offered me a lunch box this morning: she wanted to have a nap around midday when Miss1 did because my lovely wife was so exhausted after a few nights of poorly sleeping children.
“Hello?’ came a sleepy voice from our bedroom.
“Shit,” I hissed.
“Hello!” came a much less sleepy voice from our bedroom. Miss3 was obviously in there with Mummy.
Still talking in whispers I settled Miss3 back into our bed and then made a coffee while Tracey glared at me.
“I’m really sorry,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tracey said. “I was already awake because some idiot tried to call a few minutes ago.”
She continued to glare but managed to squeeze a squint in there as well. “You were that idiot, weren’t you?”
Which was the point at which we heard the big BANG.
“Look, Mummy,” said Miss3, not being able to tear her eyes off the box. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s not yours,” lied Tracey, giving me even more squinty glares because, let’s face it, if I hadn’t come home she wouldn’t have been out of bed and Miss3 wouldn’t have gone on a scavenger hunt in our room. “It’s for your sister.”
At this point I figured there was only one thing for me to do. Run away.
When I arrived back at work there was an email waiting for me.
Your daughter is determined that she is going to tell her sister what she is getting for Christmas. She even told me where she would put all the furniture in the doll house that we already have. I cannot thank you enough for your help on this. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to let the cat out of the bag before Christmas.
You’re so grumpy today, I messaged her back. Have you considered maybe having a nap?
I did wonder at this point if my side of the bed would still be my side of the bed when I arrived home.
When not over here, Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his Big Family Little Income Facebook Page. Come join us 🙂
”Raising a family on little more than laughs.”