I had one of those afternoons. There was so much to be done and I needed to get dinner ready. As I went through the boys’ school folders, I felt a little overwhelmed by the avalanche of fundraising packets, field trip forms, supplies needed for classroom events and homework. Soon, I gave up and delegated Full Speed to overlook T.Puzzle’s worksheets while I headed to the kitchen.
Here’s the thing, if I am going to be productive, it is extremely helpful if I’m not interrupted with a question every other second. I thought if Full Speed could field T.Puzzle’s questions, I’d be home-free. I underestimated their ability to create scenarios that required them to ask me questions. After about the fifth question (mind you, none of them so far were even homework related), I declared the kitchen a question-free zone. They fell silent in the other room so I erroneously thought they had figured things out. In the distracted back part of my mind, I began to glean bits of nervous conversation coming from our homework station in the dining room. Eventually, Full Speed dared to cross the threshold into the question-free zone. He looked like he was about to walk the plank.
“Mom, I know we are NOT supposed to ask you anymore questions but something really strange has happened in T.Puzzle’s homework folder. He only has last week’s assignments and there aren’t any new ones for him to do. What are we suppose to do?”
I was holding a spatula in my hand. Full Speed was lucky a spatula has no sharp edges. I sighed that exasperated Mom-sigh we Moms all have perfected, and marched indignantly to the dining room table. Clearly visible was T.Puzzle’s packet of new worksheets. Yep, I had brilliantly hidden his homework on the table in front of where he normally sits.
Imagine if I actually had put some time and effort into hiding them. Poor kid wouldn’t make it out of kindergarten.