I got a call at work today around 19:30. Layla was bawling, Tamie was mystified. The poor kid wanted her Dad and nothing Tamie could do would make her happy. Oh, I felt so bad hearing the poor girl crying on the other end. Well, at least part of me did. Some other, small part of me was beaming that the kid actually remembered me outside of a weekend.
With that in mind, I tried to wrap up my day as quickly as I could, leaving the office around 20:15 and getting home just after 21:30. Yah, so I’m not the first number on the daycare’s emergency contact information.
I walked in the door, listening for sobbing but not disappointed to hear Layla laughing with her Mom. She then proceeded to barely acknowledge me, going so far as to cry, call me scary and avoid me for what little was left of the night. This, even after I snuck her a piece of ice cream!
It may be a woman’s prerogative to change her mind… I just didn’t realize a 2.5yr old counted as a woman yet.