Daily Drama

As Dan is on a business trip this week, I am... what can only be described as SADDLED, with two small bamas.  ("Small" only when compared to the size of the sun.)

So I have to hoist/cart/haul Sydney around in her carrier (don't get me started on how THAT word is all wrong for the torturous device that she rides in) when taking Jack to and from school.  Jack loves this because he can show off his sister to his friends, who are not allowed to touch the baby (his rule).  He preens over her like a proud parent in front of his friends, daring them with his baby-cheek pinches and prideful boasting to just try to touch her.  (Do not doubt that he will dole out smacks accordingly.)

This afternoon when I went to retrieve him, some of the children in his class were (smartly) still inside listening to stories told by Ms. Emily (quite possibly the cutest human being ever to live), so she told me, "Jack is playing outside, but you can leave the baby in here!"  Before she had a chance to reconsider that statement, I ran through the classroom to exit to the playground at the rear.  Quickly I plucked Jack from the screaming mass of 4-year olds playing "volcano" and we went to go back to the classroom.

But the door was locked.

And I could hear screaming.

So could Jack.

We watched through the window in the door, me with pity, Jack with debilitating consternation, as Ms. Emily was attempting to comfort the Nugget of Terror while 8 four-year-olds covered their ears.

I rapped on the window, but Sydney is just THAT deafening, and our attempts to get Ms. Emily's attention went unnoticed.

It starts to rain.

Jack throws himself against the door, screaming "MY BABY!!!"

I start to laugh.

He looks at me, prostrate with anxiety, and not a little hysterical, and screams, "OUR BABY IS IN THERE!"  (He will make an excellent mother.)

Finally Ms. Emily notices us at the door and runs over to let us in, and Jack immediately rushes to Sydney's side to inspect her.

"SHE'S OK!" he exclaims with evident relief.  (I wonder if he suspected that maybe someone took a bite out of her.  She is very fat and juicy.)

Crisis averted, we make a hasty exit, and of course Sydney is fine once I am lugging her down the long hall of the school;  this child's happiness is directly proportionate to my discomfort.