So I had this phone meeting last week.  I’m normally pretty savvy with these things, but this week…  Well this week was just ONE OF THOSE WEEKS and the long and short of it was I couldn’t get anyone to watch my youngest child while I made this business call.  So, being the clever and resourceful parent that I am, I took advantage of one of our local resources.  One of the higer-end supermarkets has childcare so you can do your shopping in peace.  No muss, no fuss, they have games and computers and fabulous caregivers and my kids absolutely *adore* hanging out there rather than watching me try to calculate the price difference between varying brands of yoghurt. 

So I head over to the supermarket and begin my deception.  First I tool around the aisles for a few minutes, selecting things I am, genuinely, going to purchase.  The time comes for the call, I dial up and head to a quiet corner of the market, you know the one, back on the benches by the drinking fountain.

Then the condenser for the drinking fountain starts up.  No problem.  continuing my call, I move away from the rattling.

Then a loudly gabbling family comes back to get a drink.  I fell back into the relative safety of the aisles.

Then I get the call.  Over the loudspeakers.  “Will Kimberly please come to Childwatch.”

Oh crap.  They only call you for bathroom breaks.  My smallest child is 99% potty trained, and we’re trying to make sure we take him *every* time he says he has to go.  There’s no way out of this one.

I continue with my call, trying to wrap it up cooly and quietly.  I’m having flashbacks of Rush Week in college, where you had to be able to close a conversation with a possible candidate on a timeline or you would get smacked by the Rush Committee.

“Kimberly, please come to CHILDWATCH.”

Oh crap.  This call is IMPORTANT.  But there’s nothing else for it.  I wrap the call more clumsily that I ought.

“KIMBERLY!  Please come to childwatch.”

So I pop my head over the counter with a smile, the awkwardness of my surely failed business call still ringing in my mind.

“I’m here.”  I say to my littlest one.

“Hi Mommy!  Remember to get me a donut.  With sprinkles.”  My youngest son points to the corner of the store that houses the Krispy Kreme stand, then goes back to the game he was playing.  No potty emergency.  No nothing.

*sigh*