Late for Dinner

One of the many lovely things that has happened since the kids moved in next door is the nightly greetings.  If the boy Littles are outside, they will "race" my truck home to show me how fast they are.  Girl Little always quizzes me about what's in my truck (lunchbox, book bag) or what I am going to do next.

I love it.  I wouldn't change it for anything.  Having a total crap day?  Try to remember that when three, matching, smiling faces greet you at home.

The other night the boy Littles were riding their bikes down the big hill of the neighbors (non-family) driveway. Having just learned to ride two wheelers two weeks ago, they are remarkably brave at how fast they can go.  ("should" is another topic)

I pulled up the driveway and stopped in the middle so I could visit.  Girl Little is petting Daisy, the former CIA operative, and I was a little worried that Daisy would be grouchy with her.  I explained to her that Daisy is very old and only likes to be petted a certain way.  I further explained to be careful because she might be a little grouchy.

Meanwhile, the boys are swarming with their bikes.  "Look at me" times twenty thousand.  As time passed, Girl Little came to stand beside me.  She began to ask if she can get into my truck.  I explained to her, and then the boys, that I had to get home to make Kevin's dinner or he'll be angry when he gets home. (so not true)  Then I noticed Girl Little gently rub her leg.  I asked her what happened.  "Um, well, Daisy scratched me."  Poor Girl had gotten scratched by Daisy when she stopped petting her.  So she wanted to be in the truck to get away from her.

I mentioned about forty more times that I needed to get home before Kevin.  Well, time passed and guess who came home?  I heard him approaching so I called out to the boys "Oh no, who is that coming down the road?"

They looked and panicked.  Lost their Sh*t.  One dumped his bike and ran to Kevin's car, yelling at me "Go home! Go home! You have to make his DINNER!!!!"   Girl Little is pushing me toward toward the truck telling me to go home as well.  Other Boy Little is riding his bike toward Kevin's car, seemingly acting as a distraction: "Uncle Kevin! Look what I can do" 

As I am getting into the truck, I can hear first Boy Little exclaim "She didn't make your dinner!!! Are you mad!?!?!"

I was laughing so hard driving the rest of the way home.  OMG, three five year olds acting as human shields so I don't get into trouble.

What is better than that?  I am going to miss them when they move.  I want them to stay forever.