March 1st in Maine means snow. Like the most we have had this winter in one day.
It also means Thorin in the office with me. I have to say he does a great job for the most part. We pack his backpack with markers, coloring books, MOVIES and food.
It is a given at some point popcorn or Goldfish crackers or both will be thrown. Juice will be emptied. Whining will ensue.
He will escape. But, he is almost always found laying prostate in the hallway. (Once – just once – the landlady found him at the end of the hall pounding on the fish tank that holds about 100 gallons of water.)
This time of year means a table in my office is covered with film tickets. They are waiting patiently to be mailed out. And – somehow he levitates them to his chair. (Ok, he actually gets up and snatches them but I never see it happen. Is he stealth or is it because I am working?)
After six hours I said we would be leaving. We started packing up and the phone rang. Thirty seconds into the conversation he starts screaming. I ask the person to hold on a second and try to reason with him – it devolves into me begging him to stop. I go back to the call. The lady on the other ends says, “I guess I called at the wrong time.” For the life of me I wanted to say, “Why whatever do you mean?”
I apologize to the receptionist when we leave about the screaming. “Oh, don’t worry about it. We knew who it was.”
Like I said for the most part he does a great job.
a typical son 