Matthew went to preschool two years running before he hit kindergarten. Once a week they had show and tell, and once a week we used to run around the house frantically looking for something to take. It was always important to him to have something to show, school just wasn’t worth the effort on a Wednesday if he didn’t have something interesting to show.
One Wednesday was Particularly numbing, he wasn’t satisfied with anything I suggested. I think we settled on a postcard from Wales I’d found in one of my many junk drawers.
We pulled up at the school, I got out and walked around to the other side of the car. He’d managed to get out of the car seat, and was rummaging around in the glove compartment and slammed it shut as I opened the car door. We were late, and I never gave it another thought. I was due for a massage in 15 minutes and was eager to get there – BIG MISTAKE!
Words you don’t want to hear when you’re lying flat on your stomach enjoying a massage and your cell phone rings.
“Lynne, Matthew has handcuffed one of the younger children to the table by his ankle, every time he moves they get tighter. Do you have a key? Can you come quickly?
Don’t ask why I had handcuffs in the glove compartment, further more, mind your own business as to why I carry a key on my key chain.