Yes, I Have Heard of Child Labor Laws. Why Do You Ask?

Hugh broke out the trencher Saturday morning and started the first step in a long and arduous process; installing our sprinkler system. Once he had the rows trenched for the pipe, he recruited the children to manually shovel out the dirt that fell back into the trenches. It was a physically demanding chore, for certain.

Which is why I wisely scheduled a full day of errand-running for myself, including a trip to Neighboring City to purchase yet more clothing for our Barbados trip; I’m no dummy.

I was just getting into my car and almost home free when The Girl accosted me in the driveway.

The Girl: Where are you going?

Chelle: I, um, I’m going to run some very important errands.

The Girl: Why don’t you have to stay and help with the yard like the Man-Cub and I do?

Chelle: Well, Girl, I don’t have to stay and help with the yard because I have Very Important Errands to run.

The Girl (rolling her yes): Whatever.

Chelle: Well, I better get going.

The Girl (tears welling up in her big brown eyes): It’s not faaaair. We have to do all the dirty work. And, it’s hot (which, in her defense, holy hell, yes, it was hot).

Chelle: Well, honey, drink lots of water and wear a big hat, gotta go!

The Girl (stamping her foot and sighing in disgust): Fine! You better hope we don’t get heat stroke or something!

Chelle: Ok, I’ll do that.

The Girl (muttering something intelligible and, most likely, very nasty, under her breath followed by): I’m going to remember this!

Chelle: Of course you will, dear; you’ll have blisters, a sunburn and a splitting headache to remind you. Buh-bye.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel at all guilty as I drove away from the house.

I would also be lying if I said it took me longer than a nanosecond to get over it.

Chelle: Quality parenting since 1996.