Lowell sacks me from behind, arms around my knees. I’m balancing dirty dishes and stacks of toys as I clean up and nearly topple to the floor.
“SCOTT! Where are you?!”
“What? I’m in here… folding laundry.”
“No, you HAVE to watch him.”
“Ummmmm… no. No you’re not. Can you come peel him off of me please?”
Repeat this dialogue in 50 different scenes and you’d have 48 hours of my life.
Up until recently it really did irk me that it seems Scott is just ignoring my requests to watch him so I can accomplish things like doing the dishes without Lowell grabbing a filthy steak knife and running off when I’m not looking.
Then, a breakthrough.
“Listen. You? Are running zone defense with this kid. I’m telling you he needs one-on-one D. You HAVE to be on him at all times. When I’m working on something, I don’t care if you accomplish nothing but literally following him around the house the whole time. THAT’S WHAT I DO ALL DAY. The minute we take our eyes off him, game over.”
We can’t afford zone defense with this one right now.