Technically, I only have one child. But sometimes it feels like I am living with two. Every morning, the Child asks who is dropping him off and who is picking him up – It changes depending on the day. Every time he learned that I was picking him up, I would get squinty eyes and an “Awe…nuts!” response.
I figured it was because Dad usually got there earlier and that meant he got home quicker. Finally I asked (I know, I know…If you don’t want the truth, just go ahead and believe what you want. It is just better that way). And the Child spilled the beans. “When Dad picks me up, I get a treat.”
Dad has been squirreling away treats for him and the Child – gummy worms, Skittles, licorice – whatever he got from the vending machine at work and saved part of for the Child. This was to avoid the fits when the Child didn’t want to leave his friends at daycare. All I ever have is a bottle of water – and an angry child who is forced to leave without the promise of a sugary bribe. Boring old Mom.
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