Happy to be wrong

I went to work Friday with a plan... a plan that some would consider mean. I intentionally mislead my daughter as to my lunch hour. Told her I would be home at 12:30, not true, my lunch was at 12. Expected her to be out and about (she asked if she could and I said no, the lawn needed to be mowed as soon as it dried up) and expected to catch her coming home to arrive just before me.

I had also told the boys to take the puppies out for the majority of the morning, it was pretty nasty and rainy on Thursday, so Chloe and Annie didn't get alot of outside time, so when Friday was a beautiful morning, I wanted those babies out enjoying it as much as possible.

I drove down the street towards the house and was pleasantly surprised to see Emma, almost done mowing the front yard... I gave her a thumbs up as I pulled into the driveway. "Yeah," I thought, "but the boys will not have had the puppies out all morning"

Not so. As I got to the house, I saw two puppies romping in the back yard. Eric was with them. He informed me that they (the boys) had arranged to take turns, half hour shifts each. Alex had already had one, and Eric's was almost over. They intended to keep switching off until the babies fell asleep.

Sometimes it's good to be wrong. Not often, mind you... but in that case, I was happy to be wrong. I felt a bit bad that I underestimated my kids, but the past has shown that I had about a 90% chance of being right...

good kids. that day.