I was asked to work on my day off earlier this week and ended up getting today off in exchange.
The bad news is that Jerry will leave the house at 4 a.m. and not be back until almost midnight because he has to work, has two back-to-back live broadcasts after that, and his morning show birthday bash at a bar after that. Then, on Saturday, he's leaving for Lancaster with his mom and sister for a family wedding anniversary celebration.
Leaving me by myself with Alli for almost two days and passing her off to her first-ever babysitter Saturday night while I work.
Needless to say I was really bummed about the possibility of spending 36 hours cooped up in my house because it's too cold to go anywhere else while the rest of the world works.
Then I called my mom and asked if she wanted to make an impromptu visit to keep me company. And slid in that she could watch Alli Saturday night while I worked.
Nevermind that she lives hundreds of miles away.
I should've known that I wouldn't need to resort to pleading or laying on guilt.
Those days are over.
Days of begging to borrow the car or proving I cleaned my room in order to go to a movie. Days of saying things like, "But Mommmmm!" Days filled with bartering over a few florets of broccoli in order to get a cookie. Or a couple bucks and a pushed back curfew to go to a concert.
Now the scales are unequivocally tipped in my favor.
I barely have to get out one syllable of Allison's name, and she's already poised to agree.
If only I had known that in high school. I could've said things like, "Years from now, I'll let my daughter spend a weekend at your house if you let me go to the sleepover party now."
Chalk another "pro" in the having kids column.