Tinkle, Tinkle Little Girl

My husband had planned to pick my daughter up from school last Friday while I was at work. I couldn’t get home fast enough to see her but only arrived home to an empty house. I managed to stay busy with housework and a book until I heard the back door.

I shut my book, tripped over the pug and ran downstairs to see her. It was only my husband and he was putting her two bags on the kitchen floor.

“Where is she?!”, I asked excitedly.

“That’s her laundry.” he said matter-of-factly.

“I know – where is SHE?!”

“We went and had lunch with her sister and then she decided she’d stay at school.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, she just wanted a break. She got one. She just needs us to do her laundry.”

“YOU”RE KIDDING ME?” I said in a disappointed refusing whine.

“Seriously. How do you think I feel doing all the driving and hauling dirty clothes?!”

“At least you got to spend time with her.” I pouted.

I plopped in my rocker and then wondered why I could hear water running? As soon as I asked myself the question, I realized it wasn’t water.

I ran toward the noise knowing my daughter really was home. I didn’t care that she was indisposed. They’d tried to play a joke on me but now the joke was on her.

I hugged her on the toilet.

She couldn’t hold back any longer and neither could I.

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