Lochlan wasn't the least bit upset about Duncan (who is still there, by the way, in our bed, enjoying a change of scenery or maybe catching up on sleep or maybe he's doing exactly what he told me and fulfilling some errant daydream of a true communal lifestyle, which for him clearly includes sleeping all day, waking up for food and sex and passing her around because sometimes, man, you just gotta hand off the fun and take a moment to appreciate where you are in life.)
I love him the best right now. I'd much rather he call me man than Mom, okay? That irks me to no end. He's older than I am.
Lochlan did not want to linger in bed. He wants to Do Things. He's a stupidly-early-morning person when he gets into the habit and he needs to be productive. I pointed out his brain/body/mind/eyes probably needs a break and he agreed and then went straight out to buy some engine parts for the latest motorhome he is fixing up. Then we went for breakfast. Then he needed a new phone and made an eye appointment and wondered out loud if he should make a dental one too and then we went back out and did a little grocery shopping (where he smiled at me so contently, and said God, I missed this) and he's been affectionate and not fatherly and not angry and not tired and I lasted about seven hours before I stopped in my tracks and said Okay that's enough. What's gotten into you?
He smiled again. Guess when I go back to work?
Monday. Please don't say Monday, I was really hoping you'd have more than a week.
Not Monday.
Is it...the Monday after that?
No, Peanut.
I cover my face. Oh my gosh! You've got THREE weeks off?
My next project is in October.
Bullshit. Don't say that if you're going to take something on before then. You keep telling me you're taking a break or stopping and then you don't and I-
Bridget. Ask Schuyler. Or Batman. Ask everyone, they all know already. I was trying to make it a surprise.
WELL IT WORKED.
I thought you hated surprises.
I do but I love it when you're home.
I thought you'd like that.
Yeah. He's smiling ear to ear while I'm crying. We've worked so hard to be weird but this, this seemed so normal for once.
I love him the best right now. I'd much rather he call me man than Mom, okay? That irks me to no end. He's older than I am.
Lochlan did not want to linger in bed. He wants to Do Things. He's a stupidly-early-morning person when he gets into the habit and he needs to be productive. I pointed out his brain/body/mind/eyes probably needs a break and he agreed and then went straight out to buy some engine parts for the latest motorhome he is fixing up. Then we went for breakfast. Then he needed a new phone and made an eye appointment and wondered out loud if he should make a dental one too and then we went back out and did a little grocery shopping (where he smiled at me so contently, and said God, I missed this) and he's been affectionate and not fatherly and not angry and not tired and I lasted about seven hours before I stopped in my tracks and said Okay that's enough. What's gotten into you?
He smiled again. Guess when I go back to work?
Monday. Please don't say Monday, I was really hoping you'd have more than a week.
Not Monday.
Is it...the Monday after that?
No, Peanut.
I cover my face. Oh my gosh! You've got THREE weeks off?
My next project is in October.
Bullshit. Don't say that if you're going to take something on before then. You keep telling me you're taking a break or stopping and then you don't and I-
Bridget. Ask Schuyler. Or Batman. Ask everyone, they all know already. I was trying to make it a surprise.
WELL IT WORKED.
I thought you hated surprises.
I do but I love it when you're home.
I thought you'd like that.
Yeah. He's smiling ear to ear while I'm crying. We've worked so hard to be weird but this, this seemed so normal for once.