My kids stayed alone for a weekend while I went to Florida for a last-ditch attempt to find a house for us. On my end, it was somewhat successful. my husband and I looked at two houses, liked them both. I quickly turned back around the next morning and flew home, with visions of Home Alone Meets Risky Business.
The kids were on their own from the time I left for the airport at 5 a.m. Saturday - driven there by a not-fully-awake son Mike - until I returned on Sunday afternoon - picked up from the Lexington Airport by son Jack. First I gave the Pilot a quick once over. It was the car of choice for the weekend and it seemed intact. No dents (no new dents anyway), my Obama signs were still in the back seat, my radio stations were still programmed in Numbers 1 through 5. All good signs.
Walking in the door. I first noticed a distinct odor, but it was just the dirty dishes that had sat in the sink for two days. Someone had made a lot of scrambled eggs. There were also signs of Campbell’s Soup, Ramen noodles, and many, many turkey sandwiches on everything bagels. So I knew at least one of them had eaten while I was gone. So far so good.
The dog still had fur and was roughly the same weight. Again, good.
Nothing broken, no chemical odors downstairs . . . everything fine upstairs . . . basement not flooded . . . porch furniture still where I left it . . . no police tape around the front of the house . . . no summonses or subpoenas in the mailbox . . . I think things may have gone just fine over the weekend.
“So what did you guys do all weekend?” I asked.
“Well, this morning we broke the unbreakable water bottle by filling it with water and throwing it off the top of the Dunbar bleachers.”
Again, no chemical odors, no dents in the car, the dog still has fur. I’m going with that.