Justice Is Served

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Justice was on the menu at the Manna house today. That’s right, Justin and Grandpa Pat had Robbie the “big boy” on their own for a few hours. I think they were lulled into a false sense of security the first time I left them, which was right before nap time to go to church and grab a birthday present for Pat to give Robbie. They had basic instructions (two jars of food, a bottle, change the diaper, and nap time) and managed to get those mostly right. And Robbie did exactly what he was supposed to do, going to sleep with very little fuss. I must admit that I really appreciate Robbie playing into my plan, perhaps even creating it for me.

After sitting around for most of the afternoon, I started whining about being bored. Not very mature, but… Well, I’d watched Deadliest Catch for almost three hours. What do you expect? Don’t get me wrong, I love the show. I just wasn’t in the mood for a marathon today. Justin was into it and Pat was worn out from trucking all over Boston yesterday (there was a lost cell phone fiasco, which ended well). Being the fabulous husband that he is, Justin suggested I go out and have some fun.

I knew they men were in for trouble when I left; Robbie started crying as soon as he saw me head for the stairs. Ladies, admit it. There’s something a little powerful in this. You love it when the kids give your husband a hard time, proving to them that it is difficult to be home with a child all day. I happen to know first hand that Robbie didn’t stop fussing because I called after twenty minutes to get Justin to check and see if another nail salon was open and heard him crying in the background.

I enjoyed my ninety minutes outside of the house; I even thought about sitting under the dryer for just one more session but decided to be fair to Justin. I did make the four block walk home slowly, though. And I heard the fussing as soon as I opened the door. Being a sneaky woman, I quietly came up the stairs to see what was happening. The only one who saw me was Robbie, who got smiled as best he could with the plugged in computer charger in his mouth…

Poor Justin looked wiped out. Pat’s hair was disheveled. I don’t think either of them will be the same. Robbie pulled out all the stops – throwing the picture frames to the floor, changing the channel, grabbing glasses, throwing toys to the dog from the Pack ‘n Play, trying to climb the stairs, and generally being inconsolable. Until he saw me walk up the stairs. He crawled over to me, held out his arms, and looked at the men as if to say, “You idiots! This was all I wanted the whole time.” And when I asked him who the worst babysitter was, he very clearly pointed at Justin.

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