It's Time for Husband to Come Home

For those of you who know me well, you know that I enjoy all the benefits of a husband without an actual husband present. Okay, maybe not ALL the benefits. Yeah, those would be nice. As would someone else taking the garbage out. But still, I manage when he's in South America or Australia or Kyrgystan.

But really, the single parenting thing has me going to bed not long after the children actually do. And when it takes me an hour to get them into said bed, it's understandable. Especially after the swimming lessons that involved a three-year-old needing to pee twice during a 30 min lesson.

After the ninth reminder that LIGHTS ARE OFF, I become increasingly less gentle. I finally get them settled. It's quiet for 30 seconds, I let out a breath. Then...

"Mummy?"

Sigh.

"Yes?"

"I can't find my blue eraser!"

'WHY DO YOU NEED A BLUE ERASER!? YOU'RE IN BED, YOU'RE GOING TO SLEEP, WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY NEED TO ERASE!?"

"It's my phone."

I give up.