{SQT} Being Home Alone is Less Fun Without Macaulay Culkin

Hi everyone. I’m still catching up on sleep here. Because 1. Doing “fun things” when you’re 36 means you need plenty of time to recover (i.e. I’m still paying for sleeping on the ground and hiking straight uphill for what felt like an hour.) And 2. even once I got back, I was flying solo while my husband traveled to camp to help run the boys program for a few additional days.

I don’t do well when I’m home alone, especially at night. In case you’ve forgotten, let me break it down for you in Seven Quick Takes.

1. Within the first hour of my husband leaving me home alone, I assume he’s died in a massive car wreck. Commence weepiness and lots of gentle stroking of my children’s heads.

2. Within the next three hours of my husband leaving me home alone, I hover by the phone checking for a text that he’s arrived safely, or call from the State Police about a vehicle they’ve found in a ravine. I don’t go to the bathroom for the entire time because of the fear of talking to a State Police officer while on the toilet.

3. Within the next few hours of my husband leaving me home alone, I allow the kids to stay up late watching movies and eating junk food so they go to bed with less fussing. I sit in a dark corner of the dining room and flip through our wedding album while smelling a t-shirt he just wore.

4. Within the first few moments of me settling into bed, I realize that if a bat appears in the house tonight there’s no one to take care of it and I immediately start hyperventilating. I put the dog in charge of the badminton racquet and hope for the best. I argue with myself for 23 minutes as to whether or not calling 911 is an option. I rehearse what I will say to the 911 operator.

5. Within a few hours I settle into a fitful sleep that is frequently disrupted by two boys who need rolled over every fifteen minutes, one child who wants to snuggle in my bed despite the fact that it’s 86 degrees in the house and a snoring dog who is at least keeping the upstairs bat free to the best of my knowledge …but it’s hard to tell since I’m sleeping inside the pillowcase Tony usually has on his favorite pillow.

6. Within the first few hours of waking up, I check myself for bat bites that might have occurred during a rare moment of sleep. Finding none, I take solace in a huge pot of coffee that I drink myself while starting at a paper plate I’ve drawn a face on and named Tony.

7. Within a few hours the added caffeine gives me the strength to send numerous texts to update my husband on all the details of my day, including everyone’s bowel habits because I’m pretty sure we’re all coming down with something. I start waiting for crevices to open in the ground under my feet or the hot water heater to explode because God likes to keep me on my toes. Paper plate Tony tries to hold me and tell me it will be okay, but it’s not the same! It’s just not the same!!!!

[Repeat daily until husband arrives safely at home ]

So how was your week? Paper plate Tony wants to read all about it. Link up below and don’t forget to include a link back to this post so your readers can find the rest of the Quick Takes! I look forward to reading your posts while my husband signs a legally binding document to never travel anywhere without me again.