“Hi, Sweetheart. I’m off work and heading out the door.”
Sandi’s voice always puts a smile on my face. “OK, Love. I’ll see you soon.”
Nearly half past six on a Saturday morning and the boys were sound asleep.
It happens so slowly, we’re not aware of it as it occurs. We bring home our little bundles of joy from the hospital and they become the center of our lives. We note the milestones, the first teeth, the first steps and the first day at school. Almost before we know it, we’re looking them in the eye. They’re tall and look like adults. They’ve matured, too, after a fashion. Sure, they still squabble now and then, but we don’t have to dress them. They can do their own laundry, although reminding them when they need to and retraining them each time is a challenge. And they can prepare a meal. They know to stay inside, not to play with fire and are no hazard to themselves or others.
They can be left alone. Sandi and I can shop, run errands and spend time together. We can even have a date.
I’d prepared them for this. The night before, I’d told them that Mom and I wouldn’t be home when they woke, but that it was all right. We’d be home soon. Then, I played my trump card. I let them stay up as late as they wanted. I think I heard their last noises sometime around three.
My tummy growled when I heard Sandi arrive. I left them my phone, locked the door and joined her at the car.
I opened her door. “Hungry?”
“You bet!”
“Breakfast buffet?
“Sounds heavenly.”
Once behind the wheel and buckled, I started the engine and shifted into gear. I took her hand in mine.
William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.