Cassie: (yelling out to family members in the household as I walk out the door) I’m off to bring Chloe to voice!
(We’ve established with medical emergency personnel via the phone that her rash is probably not life threatening so Chloe’s going to her voice lesson as planned.)
Genevieve: Who will be my babysitter?
Scott: (entering the kitchen and speaking softly and in a muffled way because of the gauze packed into his right cheek from the wisdom tooth extraction) I’m here, Gigi. I’m the babysitter.
Genevieve: (with a grimace of disgust) But you’re bleeding. (Then, looking at me) Is Max here?
Cassie: No. He’s at a lacrosse game. Charlie’s here, though. He’ll be the back-up. Okay?
Genevieve: (Frowning silence.)
Cassie: Okay, Gigi?
Genevieve: Ahhl–riiight. But don’t do any errands. Come right back after you bring Chloe. Okay, Mommy?
Cassie: Okay. I’ll come right back.
Genevieve: (Quietly, almost in a whisper) Can you tell Daddy to go take a nap? I don’t want to see his fat cheek.
Cassie: (looking over at Scott who has started to leave the kitchen area) Scott, go take a nap so Gigi doesn’t have to see your fat cheek.
Scott: (muffled response) ‘Kay.
Cassie: I’ll be back in a jiffy, Geejer-beejer.
Genevieve: Okay. (yelling) Charlie?! Charlie?! Come here?! You have to babysit me right now when Mommy goes to bring Chloe.
Cassie: (yelling into the house again) Charlie?
Charlie: (yelling back) Yea?!
Cassie: (yelling back) Did you hear that?! You’re in charge!
Charlie: (yelling back) Why?!
Cassie: (yelling back) Because! I have to bring Chloe to–
Charlie: (yelling back) Got it! Where’s Dad?!
Cassie: (yelling back) Napping!
Scott: (comes shuffling back into the kitchen holding his cheek) Will you all stop yelling?! Jesus. (Again, his words come out all muffled because of the gauze packing.)
Genevieve: (running from the kitchen so she doesn’t have to look at Scott’s face) Ahhhhh! Bloody fat cheek! Bloody fat cheek!
Cassie: (looking over at Scott) I gotta go! Chloe’s gonna be totally late for her lesson. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Scott: Yea. Don’t rush on my account. (Slurps up some drool.)
Cassie: Humor. Funny.
Scott: (with a lopsided, swollen, bloody-cheeked grin) Yea.