Kids have absolutely rotten days, too

Yesterday, I brought the King of Everything to my office. It was Veterans’ Day, and we’d had our slumber party the night before at the hotel, and had a taste of everything at the breakfast bar, packed up, and walked to my work. He had his books, his books on tape, his Leapster. We had an art project to do for the White House. I had some serious work to crank out. Heck, he even got a kids meal from Burger King.

I made it as good as I could. But when I dropped him back at my parents’ house in the mid-afternoon, it became all too clear that the Kid had had enough of the whole nomad-living-in-hotels-for-a-week thing. He was standing at the top of the stairs when I reminded him he still had homework to do and woah.

The kid’s head exploded. “WHAT?” he shrieked. “HOMEWORK? I CAN’T DO IT. IT’S TOO HARD!”
“It’s okay, buddy, it’s only two sheets…”
IT IS NOT OKAY. IT IS NOT TWO SHEETS. IT IS PRINTED ON BOTH SIDES, MAMA! AND LOOK. LOOK!” He marched to his book bag, removed the offending sheets, and brandished them in the air in front of me.
“YOU SEE? YOU SEE! IT’S TOO HARD! SHE WANTS ME TO WRITE ABOUT COOKING A TURKEY! WITH STUFFING!!

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO COOK A TURKEY!! I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MAKE STUFFING!!!”

You could have heard a pin drop.

“Hey. Hey buddy. Come here.” Boy, howdy, was he beside himself! I gave him a hug. I mean, what else could I do? The King of Everything had had enough. Poor boo.

After eight nights away from home, we finally got back in tonight. He’s happily sleeping in his bed, and I’m fighting a headache and the sneezes because the cut the flooring inside, and everything is covered with dust.

But we’re home. And he did his homework.