So, we were barely two hours into our second Daddy-less weekend IN A ROW and I was doing something incredibly unimportant while not watching my son.  You know, something like going to the bathroom or fixing his dinner.  It’s all a blur.  And I hear from another room, “Sorry, Mommy,” followed by a pause in which Mommy did not answer and then, louder, “I’m REALLY sorry, Mommy.”

Hmm, this seemed like such a good idea at the time. Why WOULDN’T Mommy want this wagon in her bed?

So I answered, “Yes, honey, I understand you are sorry.”  Ian was apparently reassured by this response because he promptly appeared in front of me and made no further reference to the incident until he went to bed.  At which point Busy Mommy started trying to Get Things Done, still wondering what had prompted the “Sorry Mommy” episode.

Well, now we know. In case you are wondering, the last time I’d seen my room, the bed was tidily made up.  It was, at that time, accessorized with one fairly large, dedicated Daddy who got up at 5 am to spend time with his son before his trip and then decided to catch a quick morning nap before the long drive.  So I wasn’t expecting to find my room exactly as I’d left it, but I can tell you I wasn’t expecting what I did find.

Whoops, guess that thing was full of sand… uh, “Sorry Mommy!”

 For all our sakes, I hope I can see the funny side of this by 5:00 tomorrow morning.