Today was the first nice weather we’ve had on a weekend in a couple of months, so when the boys wanted to play outside, I had no qualms about letting them. At five o’clock I went out to call them in.
I thought they might have gone back inside through the laundry, so I went to look for them in that end of the house.
“Hide from me, will you?” I thought, and went back out to check behind the shed and in the shrubby corners of the yard.
I went back inside to check in cupboards and under beds.
I muttered a few choice epithets under my breath and popped next door to drag them back by the ears.
They weren’t there either.
Finally, after forty minutes of both Tech Support and I searching on foot, by which time it’s pretty near fully dark, and after popping over to Sasquatch’s best friend’s house to see if they’d gone over there (unlikely, as BF’s mother is a friend and would have either called me or kicked their scrawny little bums all the way home, saving me the trouble), I run home to get the car and hear giggling little voices in the shed (an area well established as off limits to children). The little *#$%^&!s had climbed into the old car in there and had been playing for over an hour.
My hands are still shaking as I type this.
And I am the meanest mother alive because I sent them to bed with no dinner.