Holidays are over—the flags are down! The house is mine again. No more toys, gamers, or screaming from my 8-year-old. I adore them, but finally, some peace. That is, after playing the hysterical mom this morning…
Even though Lotte headed to school yesterday, my teenager was still home on Monday. High schoolers get it easy: two weeks' earlier holidays and a later start. Lucky kids!
But this morning at the Van de Pas house, it was go-time. The alarm? Music to my ears. I leaped out of bed grinning, rousing my teen amid his grumbles with my cheerful whoops. Curtains flung open—let there be light!
My plan was flawless: drop daughter at school, walk the dog before my routine stroll, usher son out the door, then savor a creamy cappuccino. Pure bliss. I've craved this moment for days—you know the feeling 😉.
Sadly, it derailed fast. Daughter was fine, but son slumped zombie-like at the table. Too late to bed last night—not spoiling the end.
After nudges and a sandwich, the grumbly beast upstairs for teeth. He asked for hair help. Guilty over his late night, I obliged. But in his final minutes, I couldn't style it right. He grumbled, took over—fair enough.
Doorbell: friend arrives. Grab bag, out the door. No public kiss expected, so I just yelled, 'Have a great day!' Coffee called. Passing the machine, I spotted it: his lunchbox. Darn!
Last year, I vowed he'd manage solo. But day one? No empty stomach on my watch. So, like a frantic mom, I biked after him—lunchbox and cup in tow.
LUC! LUHUUUUC!Sweaty but closing in, he stops—friend too. 'Mom, what?' 'Your lunch!' He chuckles: 'Ohhh, we don't need it. Rens forgot too—school provides food and drinks.'
So…
Tomorrow, cappuccino in peace when they're gone 😉.
