Several of the older grands announced they have started “practicing being home alone.”
It sounds fun doesn’t it? Raise your hand if you’d like to practice being home alone.
We have all experienced being home, but few of us have been home alone. It’s been nothing but togetherness these past months.
Whoever said, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” had experienced quarantined.
A friend called because she had a few minutes to herself and just wanted to talk to another adult. Where did she find a few minutes to herself? In the master bedroom closet. Her closet is upstairs, down the hall, through the bedroom, through the bathroom and past a small linen closet. It’s not exactly out in the open.
It only took five minutes before her kids found her.
They wanted to know if they could have a snack.
When family started talking about how old was old enough to leave a child at home alone, some thought there was a law regarding the age of a child. I looked it up and, in our state, it says maturity, not chronological age is the key factor in when a child can be left home alone.
The grands had a review session before being left alone that included a multiple-choice quiz.
If you are hungry and want a snack, do you:
a. Whip up some brownies using the oven?
b. Get something from the pantry?
c. Cut some strawberries?
I’m not sure I’m mature enough to be left home alone anymore.
Of course, the right answer for the kids was b., but if it was me, I’d bake brownies, paw through the pantry and eat strawberries. Why not? I’d also crank up some tunes. There’s something about a small window of time alone that spells freedom.
These days I can count on time alone once every 10 days when the husband mows the yard. His time alone is when I make a grocery run. Sadly, he misses his window of alone time, as I go the store at the crack of dawn to avoid the crowds and he’s still sleeping.
A friend of a friend claimed she couldn’t take being housebound with her husband day after day. What was driving her mad? The sound of his fingers tapping on his computer keyboard.
It’s not him. It’s not her. It’s us. Nothing strains a relationship like too much togetherness.
When the grands were left alone, they were instructed to fold laundry and practice piano before doing anything else.
If I’m ever home alone again, the last thing I’ll do is laundry. I’ll order a pizza, pop in a mind-numbing rom-com movie and throw myself on the sofa.
Of course, when I hear the garage door go up, I’ll jump off the couch and start folding laundry.
I sound like I’m 13.
Some people cannot be trusted home alone no matter how old they are.