This mom makes everybody breakfast, cooks lunches and dinners, finds missing shirts and sports shoes (except when she doesn't) and cleans the guinea pig cage. What happens when she's gone for a day or two in dress rehearsals for a tap performance--while locating daughter's ballet tights and supervising daughter's ballet jitters for her performance?
What happens is that the middle kid gets the worst deal. The oldest yells a lot and mostly manages to take care of meals by having them outside, with pals. But the middle kid says he knows how to cook fish sticks, and you don't want to aggravate him by telling him yet again to pre-heat the oven, but you do call home and listen to his bored voice saying, "I know, Mom! You don't have to call again at dinner time."
So you don't.
And here's what happens: "Well, I ate the fish sticks, Mom, but they were really cold."
"Well, Mom! I put them in the oven just like you said for twelve minutes."
"Did you pre-heat the oven?"
After disposing of the semi-frozen remains of the half-eaten fish sticks, I hoped that since his tummy feels okay today he won't develop hepatitis or tapeworm tomorrow.
That evening, I planned food for the next day with him (frozen pizza! Safer!) and put out an envelope of fifty-five euros to pay his piano teacher the next day--when I also wouldn't be there.
Guess what got lost.
Moms, remind your thirteen-year-olds who have just shot up five inches in the last month, started to get gravelly voices and sprout a pimple or two to carry valuable items in bags. It never goes without saying that small envelopes of money tucked into music folders might fall out, especially if you are running with your folder under your elbow because it started to rain and since Mom isn't there yelling at you, you're wearing a T-shirt, no sweatshirt, and no jacket.
I lost money the same way as he did when I was his age. And my mother forgot to tell me, too. Well, we all know about her. But really, I should have done better.