Wednesday, 28 January 2009

Olives and outrage, both absent.

And you're right to love him
And you're right to want to
Close the door and lock me in
Break the key and chase the blood out of my veins

Streaming down the side streets,
Where the city ends
And the dead ends meet
Bite your lip and smile
I have many holes to fill
And I'll find them all

She holds them in her hand
But when she lets go she knows
It's the last time that she ever will again
In an effort to prove he is not the bad guy, and as part of his stipulations in my job description, Caleb has decided I absolutely must accompany him on his trip this weekend. It isn't far, just Toronto for two nights, but he's on a mission to unpaint himself as Satan, and in light of last weekend, I wish him luck with that.

We leave tomorrow evening, and will return Saturday afternoon or evening, and I will get a chance to shop in stores that we don't have here, and he'll get a chance to show off his charm when he takes me to the fundraising ball. He said I'll get a chance to play princess and it's been a while, and I pointed out I'll have no one to turn to when he turns into a monster out of fighting range from my boys, who pretty conveniently forgot this aspect of Caleb's ability to play dirty and what's wrapped up in a pretty bow as 'Bridget gets a shopping trip away and might have to coordinate a dinner or take notes at a meeting on the side' is really just another insidious opportunity for Caleb to have his favorite completely unrestricted access to me.

For those who worry about my children being home alone with Ben (and Daniel, bless him) for two nights, don't. They will be fine. They love their stepdad and their uncle very incredibly much and it means Ben stays home because he is unequivocably needed. I wish I had the same power over him that my children do.

For those who worry about me, stop pulling my leg. You don't exist. No one worries about me. Not anymore.