We picked up Hannah from her preschool class at 12:30 after her mother and I had enjoyed a relatively stress-free lunch at Kneader's.
Since we only had the baby as opposed to having a usually jabbery 4-year-old and an inquisitive 7-year-old, we were able to finish a few sentences and have some serious adult-type discussion.
That's rare in my daughter's world.
And even though 18-month-old Mia spent most of her time risking death and serious injury by standing up in her high chair and jumping around in circles, it was still peaceful by comparison.
We grabbed a couple of simple sandwiches, shared with Mia and finished in plenty of time to get Hannah before she had to wait or worry.
We were at the preschool door with five minutes to spare and Hannah was delighted to see us.
She climbed in the car and happily told us she had a playdate tomorrow with one of her friends and then asked, "Are we going to Chick-Fil-A for lunch?"
Kari and I looked at each other.
"Oh, sorry," Kari said. "We already had lunch. But we can go home and make you a chocolate sandwich!"
Hannah couldn't believe it.
"You went to Chick-Fil-A without me?" she said incredulously. "You had lunch without me?"
Her eyes were wide and her expression shocked. We had taken her by complete surprise.
Instantly her mother and I were ashamed.
How could we?
What were we thinking?
We had committed the unpardonable sin.
Not only had we left her out of lunch but we had included the baby, her biggest rival for love and food.
Hannah looked as if we had gone to Disneyland without her.
We both tried to soften the blow.
"I'll make you a good lunch at home," Kari promised.
"I'll take you, just you, tomorrow," I said. "And I'll bring you a pink cookie when I pick you up at dance, OK?"
Hannah wasn't convinced. Her lower lip quivered and she looked at Mia as if she suspected the baby had engineered the whole thing.
Who knew we would be in such trouble for going to lunch?
1 year ago