Coming home

My first morning after coming back, I woke up at 5:30am to a man screaming, “No! No! No!” Obviously he had escaped from the nearby hospital. Really. But I am happy to be back. Really. Also, when G asked me last night, “Who made dat?” pointing to the store-bought vegetable soup I was serving him, I lied and told him I did.

4 thoughts on “Coming home

  1. Hahaha. First you abandon him and then you deign to give him soup from a can. How the mighty have fallen! You know I’m kidding…I’m the mom who didn’t let her child eat sugar till he was almost 2 and wasn’t going to let him see TV till he was 7. Now our house is stocked with cookies and popsicles and he watches some part of Ice Age or a Huckle video most days. It does suck when you get called out though.

    • Yeah, I was completely flummoxed in the moment. I was worried telling him the soup was from the store would mean if I served him homemade soup it would turn into, “No, don’t want dat. Want soup from the store.” Also, as Sascha said, I probably want him to think his mother is a good cook.

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