Monday, November 28, 2005


Another day, another broken heart

Maybe I should just stop answering calls from home when I'm at work. Last week, it meant I had to bail from work to tend to a sick baby. Today, it was to tend to a broken heart.

Beloved: Sorry to bug you, but do you have a few minutes to talk to Tristan?

Me: Sure. What's up? (I secretly love getting calls from the kids at work. I love the fact that I have to talk extra loud and that there is no mistaking the conversation for a business call and half the floor gets to hear me talking to my adorably preccocious preschoolers.)

Beloved: I actually had to wake him up to get ready to go to daycare today, and now he's upset that he didn't get a chance to kiss you goodbye.

Me (heart shrinking into pea-sized lump of coal): Sure, put him on.

Beloved, in background as phone is handed off: Okay, here she is. No more crying, okay?

Tristan: (sniffle)

Me: (with false brightness) Hi baby! Did you have a good sleep?

Tristan: (snuffle) Mommy, I'm sad! I didn't get to give you a hug and a kiss before you went to work!

(SNAP! Sound of my heart breaking in two.)

Me: It's okay, Tristan. I'll give you an extra big hug and kiss when I get home, okay? And anyway, I gave you a nice smoochy kiss when you were sleeping before I left. Don't cry, sweetie. We'll have extra kisses as soon as I see you tonight.

Tristan (reluctantly mollified): Okay, mommy.

Me: (hangs up phone. Dissolves into puddle of unhappy guilt)