Mommy has to go to work
It’s a rainy Friday morning in New York. It’s 8am but I’m still here, barely beyond the “having my morning cup of coffee” stage. The boy is insisting that Mommy stay home. He is a darling but he’s driving me nuts repeating it every 20 seconds. “Mommy, can you stay home?” I think he has it in his head that repeating it over and over again will make it happen. The nebulizer, though, is preventing him from reciting it repeatedly because the fish-face mask is muffling his talk. Also, I acceded to his request to make the TV volume louder so he can watch his show above the noise.
I’m trying to explain to him that we grown ups also have rules we must follow. And for grown ups like Mommy, it is that I have to work. The boss is going to be in the office, and while it will be a short day ending mid-afternoon in all likelihood, it’s not a day I can afford to miss.
He’s hoping I’ll say yes. I wish. But this is one request I can’t grant. Mommy HAS to go to work.
Posted by
at
13:02:43
You did it! …How did you do it?