They’re both mad at me.

I was at a loss as to what to do with The Boys at home. That’s just it — staying home for me is often times the hardest.

So I packed us up and got us out the door. On the way to the splash pad, Jack announces that I am wrong and it opens at 11, not 10.

Turns out, the kid was right. I had 45 seemingly endless minutes to burn with my seven year old asking me literally every thirty seconds, how much longer.

Thankfully I had the frame of mind to grab my loaded snack bag. It’s amazing the power of The Snack. What that weight yields in complicity is truly remarkable.

All was not lost. We made the best of it with lollipops, too many Annie’s sugary bears, and wore ourselves out running through buckets of water.