The subtext of this text: Where there's trouble, there's Sawyer

I have always loved getting texts about Sawyer from his father.

They are somewhat rare, which means they are usually good.

And by good, I don't mean wonderful. I mean wondrously bad.

I do occasionally get texts from Ray about something sweet, touching or sentimental that Sawyer said or did. But he usually saves those stories to tell in person.

When I get a story by text, it's usually because Sawyer has done something so exasperating that Dad can't wait to share. Or sharing is the only means of getting enough sympathy to resist wringing the kid's neck.

I employ this method a lot. Texting is how I vent. Even if I know there's nothing Ray can do, sharing a line about some heinous or nerve-wracking thing our little offspring has done makes me feel a bit better.

Anyway, I got a doozy of a text from Ray on Monday afternoon.

Sawyer was on spring break the entire week before Easter. By the end of the week, he was tired of spending so much time at Daddy's office, ready to be back in his normal routine and probably eager to have some kids to play with. Daddy was equally ready for him to be back at school.

Monday was the final day, and Ray had forgotten that he'd have Sawyer ALL day. Sunday night, I told him to call a sitter if it was going to be too hard. But he said they could make it one more day.

Our son decided to test that theory.

Sawyer generally wakes up before I leave for work and follows me around while I'm trying to get ready and out the door. If it's really early, I will steer him to play with toys in his room or let him watch "kid TV" while I take a shower. If it's not a school day, I will try to let Ray sleep a little longer.

Monday played out much like this. Sawyer was watching TV in our guest room. Ray was sleeping in the next room. I told Sawyer he should stay upstairs and was not allowed to get candy.

Hours later, I texted Ray about something unrelated and got this reply:



Seems Sawyer been eager lately to "water the plants." I'm sure the little gardener decided playing in the water was more fun at some point, so he and his pajamas were soaked. Meanwhile, Hank saw his chance and took off. Rather than re-entering the back door, Sawyer repeatedly rang the doorbell until Ray finally heard it.

When Ray came downstairs, he was thinking, "Who the hell is ringing the doorbell (incessantly) at this hour?"

When he saw that little blond head peeking above the window, he was both scared to death and mad as a hornet.

These kind of texts are only funny to the parent who's not present. I had a similar incident the day before when Sawyer let himself out the back door without my knowledge. I was a little panicked until I realized he probably hadn't waited on me to go outside.

Ray was able to laugh about it by dinnertime, but I knew he was still disturbed and dumbfounded by it.

The funniest part to me, besides imagining both of their faces during this scene, is that Sawyer wasn't trying to get back inside because he was cold or wet or hungry. Or because he'd had his fun and was over it. I believe he was worried about Hank being loose.

He's smart and sneaky enough to get himself into these jams, but not enough to figure out how to get himself out or cover his tracks.

That day is coming though and sooner than we may know. When it's upon us, I bet we'll look back fondly on the days he sneaked out JUST to water the flowers.