The twins go to a preschool gymnastics class on Friday afternoons.
They really like it, and I really like having them tire themselves out while somebody else has to watch them. This is why I'm willing to pay for a college student "coach" to do things like teach them the hokey-pokey and let them jump on a trampoline for forty-five minutes.
A couple of weeks ago, however, there was a little problem. I was sitting in the nice quiet parents' waiting area working on my laptop and the twins appeared in front of me yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!"
I looked up in astonishment as the coach came running behind them. "They want you to take them to the bathroom," she explained, slightly winded from chasing the twin terrors.
I raised my eyebrows at her. The twins jumped up and down yelling excitedly, "Mommy! I have to go POTTY!"
Correctly interpreting my expression, the coach said, "I can take them myself, but they want you."
"We want YOU Mommy! We want YOU!" the twins echoed.
I looked at the coach. "I can watch your laptop?" she suggested helpfully. I gave in and took the twins to the bathroom, but I wasn't happy about it.
After all, I did the math. I'm paying almost fifteen bucks an hour PER KID for this class. For that amount of money, the coach should be able to take them to the potty and LEAVE ME ALONE. But I let it go for the moment.
Then it happened again the next week. I had been sitting peacefully at my laptop less than five minutes before they appeared in front of me again, bouncing and yelling. They didn't even use the potty excuse this time; they just yelled ,"Mommy! Mommy!" and looked pleased with themselves.
The coach came puffing up behind them. It was obvious they had escaped without her knowledge this time. I thought to myself, "Oh, HECK no! This stops right now."
There followed a charming scene in which I dragged the twins back into their class in full view of all the horrified moms and dads. Little Girl in particular screamed and cried in protest most convincingly. The coach followed us, looking on in round-eyed shock. I set my face grimly and deposited the shreiking, struggling pair in class where the other kids and the assistant coach also stared at us.
I shut the gate to the preschool area and marched back to my laptop, ignoring Little Girl wailing behind me as the coach tried to cheerily cajole her back into the circle. Everyone in the parents' area tried to pretend they hadn't just witnessed Horrible Mean Mommy Drags Twins to Gymnastics Class and avoided my eyes.
In my defense, Little Girl quit crying almost right after I disappeared from her view and it was no longer to her advantage to appear traumatized. And they both STAYED IN CLASS.
I groused to myself about the coach letting the kids escape like that. But the truth is, I can't keep track of them either.
Here's Little Boy escaping from the backyard. I can't take my eyes off the twins for a second!
Unless I'm paying someone ELSE not to take her eyes off them....