I worked last night. That was the best part of my day.
I got to the folks' place to pick up Little Sprout and was treated to the rare joy of playing the "I will give you a toy and you must balance it on your head" game while Handy Manny played at top volume in the background.
After about an hour of this, Little Sprout decided it was time for us to leave. She went and got her hat and coat, put them on, and proceeded to yell that it was "Time to GO.....right NOW". So I hounded Dad into finding his shoes and stuff and heading out the door. I figured I had some shopping to do before we could go to the Traditional Friday Lunch, so things would work out fine.
On the way to the store, my phone started to ring. I couldn't reach it, since it was in my sewing basket in the back seat, so when we pulled into the parking lot I left Little Sprout to Grandpa and checked my voice mail.
It wouldn't let me in! It kept telling me I needed a password, something I have never needed before. I was perplexed. I am really smart, though, so I checked my "missed calls" and saw that it had been Mr. Barefoot. I called him back, and found out that the eldest Step-Evil wants to come home from TX right NOW, and doesn't have the money to get here.
I already wasn't having the best of days, so I really wasn't interested in the conversation. However, I had to give Mr. Barefoot credit. I had just gotten done discussing how I feel when he makes decisions without consulting me, so he was calling to consult.
But what was there to say?! This is his kid. She is miserable. She wants to come back to MN. There isn't anything to discuss about that. Mr. Barefoot has no choice but to send her the money to come home. There just isn't anything else to do.
But he wanted to talk it out, so we talked.
So there I was, standing in the entryway (because of COURSE my phone doesn't work inside the store) trying to talk to him while Dad walked further into the store and Little Sprout ran between the two of us. I motioned for Dad to take Little Sprout and a cart while I talked to Mr. Barefoot, and watched as Little Sprout ran to her beloved Grandpa.
After a couple of minutes, I looked up to see the greeter BRINGING LITTLE SPROUT UP TO ME, with no Grandpa in sight.
He had walked away from her, thinking that I had her. I had focused on the floor and my discussion with Mr. Barefoot, thinking Grandpa had her. And my little girl was wandering the front of the store completely unsupervised. I had no idea where my dad was.
I was frightened, I was furious. I was grateful that the lady working there noticed and grabbed Little Sprout before she got lost or hurt or grabbed by some sicko.
Needless to say, I didn't let go of Little Sprout after that. I searched that store with murder in my eyes, while she cried that her "Gunka" was lost. Luckily, she didn't understand most of the names I was calling her "Gunka".
Well, we finally did find him. I gave him grief and the day went on. Now I am sitting at home, dreading the meeting at work tonight where I am going to have to put on my "hard@$$ hat" and bring up some issues that I have no faith Big Boss Lady will address.
My teeth hurt, my back hurts, and I have to work 3 more days before I get my "weekend". Mr. Barefoot wants me to go to the bar with him on Saturday, which I am just not into.
I think I am going to just go to bed and pull the blankets over my head for a while....