Posted in C-Haze, Children, Funny, Humor, Single Mom

Home Alone, Spare Keys and Ice Cream Cake

Ahh… well school is back in session and it’s kinda…


My littlest one is too young to go to bona fide school yet- she’s still in daycare-but my oldest has started 4th grade. Since she missed the kindergarten cut-off and is almost a full year older than her classmates, I figured this was the year to end after school care.


This means my baby (yes, baby- in spite of the fact that she’s 10 years old going on 30 and stands a full 5 feet tall) has become an official latchkey kid.


She laughs at me- she’s been ready for this responsibility (in her mind anyway) since she shot down the chute and out of the womb.

I, however, am not nearly so confident.

In preparation for her to stay home alone after school until I get off work every day, I made 75 spare keys.

Yes, 75.

One can never be too prepared, right?

I wrote down my work number and cell phone number, not to mention her dad’s numbers and every emergency number I could think of (yes, this includes animal control. I realize we have no pets, but an emergency is an emergency after all) in at least 125 easily accessible different places… and I might have pasted them on her forehead as well, just for good measure.

We’ve had countless “practice runs” and have gone through every possible “home alone” scenario… and yea, maybe even some that aren’t so possible too…

… and still I’m not prepared.

School just started last week, and so far she has called me at work 67 different times… she wants to ask if she’s allowed to watch tv, or eat the ice cream cake in the freezer… she also calls me each day as soon as she gets home, just so I know she’s ok.

I protest verbally that she calls me so often… but secretly, I’m glad.

Sometimes she tells me she’s bored at home all alone… and I pretend to be sympathetic, but I am quietly relieved. If she’s bored, she can’t possibly be doing things she shouldn’t be… like opening doors for strangers, making prank calls or entertaining house guests.

She’s a big girl now, and she’s more than ready to accept her newfound responsibility.

All I can hope for is that her mother will soon fall in line.


Tryin' to get the hang of this life thing... one step at a time!

4 thoughts on “Home Alone, Spare Keys and Ice Cream Cake

  1. I remember getting my first key to come home alone – can’t remember if I was 10 or 11, but it was about that age. I only ever locked myself out by forgetting the key on two occasions, and both times I broke in through the tiolet window. This was no mean feat, though, as I had to climb down nearly two meters from the walkway to the back balcony, put down my bag, push the big barbeque under the toilet window (set 1.5 meters in the wall of the house and directly over the toilet itself), push out the flyscreen and then climb in, bent sideways, one leg at a time, through a space not much bigger than a laptop computer screen balanced on the short end. This meant the leg I put in first came down on the toilet bowl, where it had to rest, precariously, while I held onto the window ledge and pulled my other leg in. Then I’d climb down, go to the balcony door, open it, and bring my bag in. I remember my mother being utterly astonished that I could fit in through the gap; no less astonished than me on really assessing the gap as an adult and thinking “no f-ing *way* coul I do that now.”

    The second time I did this, though, not only did I pull a leg muscle, but once inside, I found my key had actually been in my bag the whole time, just in a different pocket to usual. D’oh!

    And out of curiosity, what’re you going to do with all those spare keys? 🙂

  2. Not sure what I’m going to do with all the spares yet… make a necklace? Bury them throughout the neighborhood, just in case she needs them? LOL.

    When I was getting the spare key made for her… it just seemed that making one or two of them wasn’t nearly enough!

  3. Written with such expression from the heart and with humour and philosophy added.

    A delightful read – and eager to read more.

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