Subtitle: Well, I think I know where at least 2 of the kids are.
Wesley’s in the airplane. Kyla and Piper? Unknown.
I take off Wesley’s shirt (‘cuz I’m not an idiot) and put him in a smock, then go back to the airplane, where the girls now are, to let them know we are in the ferry. Come back to strange looks. Another mom asks me if “that one” is my son. That one that just crawled on all fours into the water table? Well, his chest was dry and so was his underwear (!!!!), but everything else, including his shoes, were drenched.
Yeah, right. Give this kid scissors, glue and markers. Too bad his sisters can be in the art studio for hours making things that I will throw away within 48 hours when they are not around.
I usually avoid this room because it’s often parent-intensive to make something the child wants. But Kyla did this all by herself.
Alright, let’s head over to the island now! Yeah, we’re going to the cabin! We can catch the ferry if we leave soon! Oh. Piper is having a 7-minute tantrum off camera. We miss the ferry by 3 minutes.
Why do I try to do fun things with the kids on a day off? Perhaps my theory that no good parenting goes unpunished is panning out.
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