344. An other shock to the system

 We are back from a long weekend on a mini-adventure. What I call a practice run for the big adventure (3 years of planning) and what my husband calls green laning ... a compound-word that even my spell checker does not know. 

So here we are after 4 days and 3 nights in the wild (OK might not be that wild but as wild as it gets around here) and only the dog comes to greet us. At least two of our kids are supposed to be home yet no-one comes to the door, not a single 'hello' shouted from some far away corner of the house. I pushed the door of the sitting room open. Suspiciously orderly. 

I put my bag down and tell the dog to calm down. He seems truly happy to see me. What about my own children? They do not seem to give a toss.

Miss Organiser had texted us to ask when we were home though. Which must mean that she was missing us and eagerly awaiting our return. Or am I reading the message wrong?

'Is anyone home?' My husband is asking. Then he adds, happily.

'It's clean in here.' 

'Orderly. That is suspicious. There might have been some partying going on here.'

I make my way to the kitchen. Some clean dishes on the sink. Plates. Big saucepan. Indicating that enormous quantities of pasta have been cooked. A glance towards the pasta jar confirms this. I should have been a detective. Suddenly my eyes falls on something else drying on the sideboard.

I shout at my husband, panic in my voice.

'Shot glasses! Look! They've had a party and they consumed alcohol! Hopefully not my alcohol!'

Baby comes down. She looks as if she hasn't slept since we left.

'You look tired!' I say.

'I am a little.' She lies. She looks exhausted. 'I'm going back up, I'm doing homework.'

My husband looks at me. I tell Baby to send Miss Organiser down for serious questioning.

'Hi! You're back. Did you have a nice time?'

'Did you?' I look at her in the eyes.

'And how much of my alcohol did you drink?'

'Mum!' Eyes rolling to the ceiling. 'Chill! It was our own alcohol.'

'Ah! ... ' I say and then am lost for words. Should I be pleased that she had the sense to leave my alcohol untouched or should I be horrified that she has her own alcohol supplies?

My husband is just happy to be reunited with his dog, I'll have to wait a little to discuss this sore point. Meanwhile Miss Organiser runs back up the stairs and leaves me downstairs to chew this over. I go to the drinks cupboard to check that she is telling me the truth. As my husband is still conversing with his favourite animal I pour myself a drink. I am feeling a little down, the conviction that I am a super mum fading rapidly.