Panic at the Disco

So, my brother called this morning. Never a good sign. a) it was 8:00 in the morning...universal rule: don't call me in the morning. ((Because I'm usually running late and or sleeping AND grouchy))
and b) with the whole Dad Thing, I also experienced a little bit of panic tinged with a dash of "What now?"

Turns out, he needs to go to Chicago for A WEEK in two days. That means I have responsibility of The Girls (my nieces, the best kids ever) while he is gone. Now, they're 17 and 13 so it's not like they're toddlers. They're going to stay at their house unless something goes terribly awry. But still....

Normally, staying at the Grandparents is the default setting but because of the whole Dad Thing, that's not possible.

I went into Panic mode. "What-if's" flying around like the scary monkeys in Wizard of Oz.
Troubleshooting and problem-solving mode kicked in, thankfully shortly after that.

I mentioned it to my boss, who is a mother of two and in her sixties. She was nonchalant about the whole thing. "They'll be fine." "Who cares if they're late to school? Worry about the big stuff" And then I felt much better. She's right.

It doesn't mean that I won't sleep with my cell phone. Or that I'm going to do a drive-by of the house on Friday & Saturday nights.

Their neighbors...one of whom is Ross Matthew's mother...are on high alert for mischief as well.

They'll be fine. I'll be fine. I'll be the cool auntie. Please.