Slightly defectiveThis is my Saturday today and I'm working my little butt off cleaning up.
Not what I had planned
I waited until everyone was up and out of my hair this morning and then I finished my tea with a new book (the Trudeau one I got for Christmas) and then had a hot bath with some of my Lush goodies. PJ cut all of the bath bombs in half for me (then they last twice as long) and impulsively I threw in two different halves. An eight-dollar bath but I would have paid eight hundred because it felt so good.
I didn't drop my book in the tub but I made the pages all wavy with my wet hands.
When I was beet-red it was time to get out. Then I had to spend twenty minutes scrubbing glitter and seaweed out of the tub.
That isn't anything new actually. Lochlan said that's what I'm made of. Glitter and seaweed. He laughed and asked if maybe he could join me for the next decadent bath. That we could make his skin as red as his hair. I find that amusing. Loch hates baths. He thinks it takes too long. He lives on the run.
Then I had to have three people help divide up the food left from last night. It seems when you put out a potluck request without parameters from all men you'll get red meat and Mexican food and very little else. We ate until we couldn't move and it looks like there's enough left that no one will have to cook until Easter. And we're still cleaning up this afternoon.
But it was fun. I kept my streak of making Caleb cry when he listened to his birthday speech from me and by the end of the night everyone had put their party hats on John, who looked like a big papery hedgehog.
Caleb's own speech made me tear up too. I didn't expect that. Instead of his usual assurance that he'll do what he wants he said he was humbled by the outpouring of love and generosity and time. That we're not his friends, we're his family and that he couldn't have chosen a better group within which to see his son raised. That the only thing missing from the night was Cole's presence but that Cole lives within him now so he is here after all, in spirit.
I sniffed really loud and at least eight sets of eyes looked at me. But it's okay. I'm the sap of the family so I do this often.
(Cry, I mean.)
Caleb loved the cake that I made, and liked the numbers for his age instead of an equal number of candles and he was touched by the photograph I gave him. He stared at it and commented on every detail he could spot. His size. His youth. He said the only thing different about me was my hair. He said Cole had such an eye for candid photos. He asked how it was that he hadn't seen this one before and I just shrugged and said I was full of surprises.
You are, he smiled. Thank you for this.
I nodded.
John put all of the party hats on the chandelier in the dining room. It's twelve feet up in the air so there they will stay and most likely burn the house down.
The dog fell asleep under the table and we forgot about him. The kids were sent up to their rooms at ten-thirty. It was a school night.
The record player scratched along the edge long after we forgot it was on, too.
Sam and Matt danced close. By themselves, far removed from the table where the rest of us sat and drank our faces off on a Tuesday.
And the unintentional, nefarious king surveyed his kingdom, pleased with what he has done.