to make sure I'm still breathing? To keep me from taking more than two deep breaths? Why do these children keep calling me when it's OBVIOUS that I've shut myself in my room? I haven't gone anywhere. I'm laying on my bed in the dark enjoying a silent night moment after Christmas shopping, playing free taxi service, and cutting out 72 Gingerbread Men.
Here's a list of the things they found were so important that they had to run up the stairs and come in to turn on the light and tell me, or yell "MOM" twenty times from downstairs until I couldn't take it anymore:
MOM, where's the milk? Oh, it's in the fridge of course.
MOM, Haley gave me an evil look!
MOM, can I have a cookie?
MOM, can I sit on the couch and read a book?
MOM, I need a ride--in an hour.
Mom, I forgot how to butter bread. Can you show me?
Mom, I found this used popsicle stick that WAS MINE in Haley's room. She's stealing my trash.
Where's the Christmas Spirit people? All I want is FIVE WHOLE MINUTES to myself. The funny (but not really) part is that I feel so ALONE all the time since he left. But I am alone--in my head.