I accidentally sent my 12-year-old a text message yesterday that said: “How you travelling, stud?”
I stood there staring at my phone thinking “Oh, that’s OK, that’s OK, no biggie … oh no, oh no, oh no!”
The 12-year-old was at her dad’s house at the time. The text message was meant for DD, who was due over for dinner.
I mean, it’s not the worst text I could have sent my daughter. There are way less PG ones.
But still, I’m reeeeealllly wishing I hadn’t pressed send.
There’s nothing you can do about an accidental text either. Once it’s out there, it’s out there.
So I sent a second message trilling: “Oooops, wrong person. Was joke meant for DD ’cause I had lunch with his friend today and she said he had lots of girlfriends when he was younger.”
She replied: “LOL.”
My usual panicked patter would be to continue with the lame apologetic excuses, but I decided to leave it at that.
I DID actually have lunch with a friend of DD’s yesterday who DID tell me about the antics of his younger days. He insists she’s exaggerating.
Anyways, that’s not what this blog is about. It’s about DD and I spending an unprecedented two school nights together.
He came over on Sunday night and we went out to dinner with some friends, then he stayed at my place because he was meeting clients in the city early on Monday morning. He bought me a hairdryer as a thank you gift, mainly because he blew my last one up and likes to dry his silver locks after a shower.
It was kinda weird making him a coffee in the morning, kissing him goodbye at the front door and saying “Have a good day, see you tonight!”
And it felt all warm and fuzzy to walk outside later and discover he’d brought in the bins (because they’d been blocking the driveway).
Last night I made him sausages and mash with onion gravy for dinner by candlelight (not because it’s romantic but because all the lightbulbs in the house have blown) and then we curled up on the couch sipping red wine together.
He stayed the second night because he’s heading to Melbourne on a business trip this morning.
It’s been lovely having him stay, but also a bit intense because I’ve had to be tidy and organised all the time. I’m normally the opposite of tidy and organised.
It was also sad saying goodbye. I’ve enjoyed our little burst of domesticity.
It’s not something we plan to do as a full-time thing.
He loves his Northern Beaches life. I like being close to the kids’ school and my work.
And never the ‘twain shall meet.
Well, other than the occasional sweet interlude.
Although I sussed out the neighbours while we were chatting fences on Sunday to see if their son would be up for a bit of dog sitting so I can spend summer nights up north and go for a swim at the beach the next morning before work.
Cue another rabbit-in-the-headlights moment when I started wittering about how the neighbours on the other side got me to go halves in that fence, acted like they were my besties until they got the money then never spoke to me again.
The Sunday neighbours jokingly said “Ah, so you’ll never speak to us again after this?”
And I replied: “Of course I will, I need you for the dogs.”
I was JOKING too, but they didn’t laugh and now I’m wondering if they think I’m AWFUL.
Frequent shallow breaths.
Song of the day: Britney Spears “Oooops I did it again”
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