Re-entry: Five Minutes a Week Later

Remember my five-minutes story, with Hibiscus's upsidedown kidney bean mouth because I was walking out the door?  I can describe her someone-is-leaving tantrum very distinctly, because it happened any time any one needed to go out the door, for any reason.  And apparently when her mouth is opened to its widest and saddest shape, combined with the highest possible amount of noise, it becomes a giant upsidedown kidney bean.  To go along with the wide-open mouth, there are flailing arms, diving towards the object of her affection, falling on the ground or bumping into objects, and screams of "don't go!" and "me too I'm going wiv you!", devolving into guttural wails.  The person in question can only walk out the door because the other person is physically holding her back.  After the departing person has departed, the hysteria gradually wanes, but the dramatic mouth shape and associated wails continue for up to half an hour.

I don't know whether she believed that once our family was re-united in magical America, we would all be together all the time, or if simply her deep fears of abandonment and separation were re-ignited by our move across the globe.  Meanwhile, Mama has to go to an appointment?  Kidney-bean mouth hysteria.  Mama gets back, but Daddy has to go to work for a couple hours?  Kidney-bean mouth hysteria.  Mama is taking a walk without children?  Kidney-bean mouth hysteria.  Daddy has to go to a meeting at work? Kidney-bean mouth hysteria.  Daddy has to shovel the driveway or Mama goes to get something from the barn?  Kidney-bean mouth hysteria.  Generally, she understood much better when she has to go to school, and thus is the one doing the leaving, and was apprehensive but calm.  But she has to go to school but Emerson stays home?  Total kidney-bean mouth hysteria, every time she thinks about it.


So I need to describe Daddy's departure for work this morning.

The kids were all playing in the living room.  Daddy came by and announced cheerfully that he was leaving.  (Side note: we have never, ever snuck away from the children, no matter how much easier it might be.)
"Aw, don't go to work!" Hibiscus cried, obviously disappointed.
"I have to go to work, but I'll see you at dinner time," Daddy replied, and kissed them each.
"Daddy has to go to work so our family has money," Hibiscus repeated the familiar line.  Then she thought a little more.  "Don't go to work today.  I think we have enough money already!"  I can certainly see why it seems that way to her!
"I have to go to work," Daddy answered, getting his coat and hat.
"Come home at lunch time, then," Hibiscus ordered.
"I have a meeting at lunch.  I have to have lunch with someone special," Daddy explained, realizing they might not understand what a meeting was.
"Then bring the special person home and have lunch with us!" Hibiscus suggested.  This made me laugh, the idea of Daddy conducting any kind of business meeting with my three little monkeys swinging off his arms and spilling their yogurt on his lap, all with the greatest amount of affection and enthusiasm.  My children really love guests.  My laughter made the children start to laugh, too, and then Hibiscus asked what was funny.
"I can't come home for lunch, but I'll see you at dinner.  I love you all!  Bye-bye!"  And Daddy walked out the door.

And the children kept playing.  And that is the end of the story.