And on the final night of my wife’s latest international work trip, there was another crisis.
After picking up the kids from school, we went to one of the local libraries to read, play, and run around away from the house since it’d just been cleaned that day. With mama on the way home from Germany, I wanted the house to still look good when she arrived. And so we crawled on the floor making animal noises, read books about the Dia de los Muertos, and got in trouble for climbing on the furniture.
All in all a successful library trip for two young boys.
But as we got ready for bedtime, we made a horrifying discovery. Ricky, the best stuffed-animal friend of my oldest son, had been left at the library. I can almost hear you all gasping out there.
Cue the meltdown.
After explaining to him that we couldn’t go back and we’d have to pick up his stuffed raccoon tomorrow, he eventually calmed down enough to sleep. In the morning, I called to confirm they’d found his raccoon friend (they had) and told them we’d pick it up after school. I thought this was perfect opportunity for a teaching moment about holding onto our things, but then asking for help when we lose them.
Feeling smug in my “clearly” superior dad powers, I went to pick him up this afternoon ready to spring my master plan.
After explaining since it was his friend, he’d have to tell the librarian that he lost his stuffed animal and if they could check the lost-and-found. He nodded and dutifully said “Yes daddy” as we pulled into the library parking lot. Victory was nearly mine!
We strolled into the library foyer where a nice librarian was standing and waiting to help new arrivals.
Without hesitation my four-year old son walked up to her and said, “Can I have my raccoon back?”
My only regret is I didn’t get a picture of her face when he dropped that bomb on her.
When it comes to parenting; you win some, you lose some.
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