Last Thursday was… well, let’s just say it had some really low lows, and some exceptionally high highs. Both of those events deserve their own posts, but the words are still germinating and marinating and in the meantime, I thought I would share this little gem of a text conversation I had with The Mister on the way to work after leaving Hawkeye in creche for his last day there before Easter break.
You see, that low low I was talking about happened first thing in the morning and involved an epic tantrum so I was not at my best dropping the three year old off at creche. I mean, I gave him his hugs and his kisses and waved at him but my heart wasn’t in it that morning. However, before I left him Hawkeye did run up to the little clip above his designated coat hook and pulled off something which he thrust into my hands before running off to the window to wait for me to wave to him from the driveway.
After the obligatory waving and blown kisses ritual I looked down at the object, frowned in puzzlement, took a photo of it, and sent it to The Mister.
A fair warning for the faint of heart: the post below contains dark parental coping humour, gratuitous violence, and foul language. Because sometimes you just have to crack some inappropriate jokes, swear a little, and laugh in order to keep going.
I really cheered up by the time I got to work with this little revenge fantasy in my mind. And it was a good thing I did because the day got much worse before it got way, way better.
But that’s a story for another time.
The Feathered Rose 