The Witching Hour

That time of year is back, and it has gotten worse.
Now that it is dark before I have even cleaned up lunch, and the weather is questionable on a good day, the witching hour has again become the most dreaded time of day. You know those hours between 3 and 6 when there is NOTHING to do and NOWHERE to go. That time between the afternoon activity and the evening rush. When all the toys have been played with, and you fear DCFS is going to come and get you if you let your kid watch one more minute of TV. The time when you look at the clock and it reads 4:15 pm and then 10 minutes you look again and it reads 4:17 pm and you think that it is broken but it really isn't so you cry out and wave your fists at the sky curing time for passing so slowly. I think that working parents don't escape this witching hour either. They are the ones running around trying to get home in rush hour traffic, trying to figure out what is for dinner, trying to get a day's worth of quality time in. It gets worse just after the time change because the dark is such insult to the injury of cold weather. I am convinced that no one is productive or happy during this time of day.
before she had a kid I used to hold my sister hostage on the telephone during these times because it gave me something to do as well as a reason to not be paying attention to Abby (Not that I neglect my kid, its just that sometimes I need a fucking coffee break, is that so much to ask? Really, it is, seriously?! Then nevermind.). She used to tell me that it was times like this that I needed a close by neighbor who I could while away the witching hour with drinking wine and watching our kids frolic. It would be perfect to live in a neighborhood that had that, but the one cool family here on the communist block is busy.
What turned today's witching hour into an excrutiating exercise in parenting was a phone call I got at 4:45pm. Now when the phone rings at this time it can go one of two ways, it can be my mom, or some other distraction who will keep me on the phone, or better yet come over, to distract my and the Ladies until it is time to get dinner on the table; or it can be Tim, calling to tell me that he is working late.
Today the 4:45 phone call was Tim.
He has been having some trouble at work (his boss quit-not his dad, his uncle), which I can be understanding to, but tonight, yeah, I'm sorry but I am going to have to go ahead and be that wife that needs you home. His reason for staying late is that a "customer" needs to come and photograph his car. Huh? That never happens, that is why we all have insurance, so that they will photograph our cars. When I started asking about said customer I discovered that it was Tim's buddy from his hockey team, and that he was coming by at closing so that they could have a beer. Just 1 beer, and he is leaving no later than 6. The last time this happened Tim came home at 10:30 piss drunk without calling. This is going to go down as the longest day of my life on record.
Hopefully he will surprise me and really will leave no later than 6, but I am not holding my breath.
At least blogging is a new way to pass the witching hour.