David and I went to a family funeral in Provo today. Sophie and Ben are both fighting off colds/bronchitis, so I could hardly send them to a friend's house or ask someone to come over to catch some of their love, but I had to go to accompany Dave's sister. We've been leaving Josh with the littler munchkins more and more often, and usually everything goes smoothly. He offered to watch them, so we thought we'd risk it.
After the funeral I checked my phone. There were five voicemails.
#1 Sophie in a sobbing voice..."Mom, please please please come home RIGHT NOW. Why did you leave us with Josh?" crying...
#2 Sophie in a sad, subdued, weepy voice..."Mom...he's being so mean to me. He's so mean. Please come home."
#3 Sophie in a desperate voice..."Why can't you come home right now? Please please please come home."
#4 Sophie, again sobbing..."Mommy, where are you?" Mad, angry voice breaks in. Josh: "Sophie, hang up that phone RIGHT NOW. HANG IT UP NOW. HANG UP. HANG UP." Sophie: "No...I don't have to." Angry words back and forth, yelling and sobbing.
David and I, alternately cracking up and wondering if anyone is left alive, finally got to the last voicemail:
#5 Sophie, chipper and upbeat..."Mom, we've made up. Everything's OK! Love ya."
Hot and cold. Little angels.