Conclusive Evidence

I tried sitting to read a book, and the children came and sat on my lap, asked for food, and made at least five demands requiring I get up.

Later, I sat down to write, and one son came with a project, two with a fight over a toy dinosaur, and another with a diaper change.

So I tried an experiment.

I took a chocolate bar and a diet coke and my laptop, and went to the basement. The messy basement that causes any parent to despair, and any child to fear feasting on the spilled toys, because they know a grown up might ask them to clean.

But the trigger is not where am I that draws my offspring.  They found me within minutes. I think I tried too hard.

Doing the dishes I found myself uninterrupted for the entirety of the job.

Vacuuming yielded similar solitude.

Laundry guaranteed in a house of normally between ten and twelve people, I saw and heard no one.

It seems my children sense when Mom is engaged in leisure, and when she is not.  They don't interrupt industrial activity for fear it will generate more industrial activity, but know if I'm anxious to get back to something that is fun, I will probably accommodate their wishes faster, and that if I'm doing work, I'll probably notice they're not working.

As the saying goes, knowledge is power.

So this post is being written amidst the sock pile, in hopes the cover of a hated chore will thwart their mom radar long enough for me to take a break.

One child has come to sit next to me in the socks.  I'll have to keep fine tuning my camouflage.