Leave the Kids in the Cave !!!

Parental Time Off for Good Behavior

“AUSTIN, Texas - Three students rescued after spending 30 hours inside a cave they were exploring gave searchers a guide to find them: a trail of leaves they deliberately left behind.”

“Ms Flynn, great news! We found your kids. They’re in a cave, they left a trail of leaves for us to follow to get them. You must be so relieved!”
“Oh, sure Sheriff. Of course I’m thrilled. It’s been so quiet and peaceful here this weekend without them though..... Are you sure they’re all right?”
“Yes. The rescuers left food and drinks, flashlights, at key locations in the tunnels during the search and they disappeared, so I’m sure they’re fine.”
“That’s nice that you got some food to them. So, now that they’ve had a little snack, maybe they’d like to do some more exploring before they come home. I mean, it must be a lovely cave, they went to a lot of trouble to find it.”
“I thought you went in a panic about them being missing - isn’t that why you called 911?”
“No, that wasn’t me, must have been one of the other parents.”
“What - you’re not worried about your kids being lost in a cave?”
“But that’s just it, they’re not really lost. We know where the cave is and you said they left a trail of leaves to show them the way out of the windy cave, and gee, what could go wrong there?”
“Ms Flynn, I’m getting the impression you don’t want them home.”
“Well, not so much that I don’t want the little darlings home as I’d just like a little more time off. I read in National Geographic that people can get very adapted to living in the dark. I was thinking, if I leave food at the entrance, they could play in the cave for another five, six days...I could really get the house cleaned without them traipsing around, plus get into their rooms and route out whatever it is that is living under their beds and eating socks.”
“Most parents would be thrilled to have their children home with them.”
“Most parents don’t have my children. Have you met them? My daughter could make Mother Theresa homicidal. And my son? Stubborn, rigid - concrete slabs are less rigid than my son. They could use a few days in a cave.”
“But surely you miss them?”
“I have pictures.”
“Don’t you miss hearing their voices?”
“Neither of them speak to me.”
“Maybe you could work on being a better parent so they would speak to you.”
“I got a thousand dollars says you can’t spend 24 hours in that cave with two teenagers without losing your mind or using your gun.”
“I’ll take that bet, and I’ll leave my gun here.”
“Trust me, take the gun.”

The next day.
“How did it go Sheriff? How was it?”
“How can your daughter complain about the way the rocks are arranged in a cave?”
“She’s a teen, she can complain about anything. It’s some kinda gift.”
“Your son knows every species that lives in the cave.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He knows what they eat, where they live, what their mating habits are, what music they live - and he tells you. And if you interrupt him, he starts over at the beginning. He starts over and over until you listen to the entire lecture without interruption. And your daughter complains in the background. She refuses all suggestions and just keeps complaining. I’m so glad I didn’t take the gun.”
“Hey, listen, thanks for giving me an extra day of peace. I’ll go pick them up later.”
“No, you can’t get them later. It’ll take at least a day for the rescue crew to dig them out of the cave in. We’ll go tomorrow.”
“Cave in?”
“I was running away from your daughter when my shoulder brushed against the main support beam and caused a slight collapse.”
“Wow! ‘bout time I caught a lucky break.”