So I’ve left them.

At home with HRH for half the day. He was resistant and passive aggressive, but I won in the end.

HRH has decided to take them bowling, coincidentally just a few minutes walk away from where I’m having lunch. Conveniently enough I’ll have to take them home when they are tired and (knowing my husband)hyped on sugar because he has a ‘work’ thing.

It turns out that his definition of ‘work’ includes dinner and drinks with friends at TGIFriday’s. I only found out because I mentioned I might take the kids there for dinner and he proceeded to freak out like a polar bear at a beach volleyball tournament.

But whatever.

I didn’t make their lunch. I didn’t make sure they had their train passes or handkerchiefs or water bottles or umbrellas.

Let him take care of all of that for a change and see how much fun it is. I see he called his mom in a panic about lunch, which is kind of cheating. Would have been better for his personal growth if she hadn’t been home. I wonder how his high standards of what an acceptable lunch consists of would change if he ever is his life actually once made lunch.

The world may never know…

I have a lot of relaxing to do in the next 4 hours because tomorrow I’ve promised to take the kids to Legoland. I assume this is one of the forgotten layers of hell. I guess we’ll find out.


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