You're at home when you suddenly realize your toddler is being suspiciously quiet. You have two choices:
a) go check on what the little trouble maker is up to
b) sit down, pull out a magazine and enjoy the 5 minutes of silence.
Please tell me I am not the only one who sometimes (OK, more than sometimes) chooses option b. If I am then I have just earned Worst Mother of the Year Award, and I will probably win it every year from here on out so you might as well not even try to run against me.
Of course I do feel a teeny, tiny bit bad when Daphne emerges into my quiet zone holding a giant, razor sharp fork that she dug out of the back of a kitchen cabinet...